


Figuring It Out

by Kesterpan



Series: The FIOverse [2]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Family, Friendship, M/M, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-27
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 36
Words: 174,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kesterpan/pseuds/Kesterpan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to my first story, Post Obsession Conversation, second installment in the FIOverse. Gibbs/DiNozzo slash. Gibbs and Tony try to figure out where their relationship is headed after the revelations in Gibbs' basement. The team helps. Sometimes funny, sometimes serious.  Explicit material doesn't show up until about chapter 7; violence isn't until much later in the story and isn't really all that graphic, but better safe than sorry!  36 chapter, complete, posting them all here as I find time.</p><p>This story goes AU after the season 7 episode Obsession... the Mexico story line never happened, and Tony was never engaged to Wendy.  Other than that, details of how Tony and Gibbs met in Baltimore remain the same as on the show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Post Revelations Conversations

**Gibbs In The Morning**

Tony stretched his legs, groaning as he unfolded his body from the just-too-short couch. Pushing up into a sitting position, he scratched his head as he considered his surroundings. Probably just a little after six a.m., judging by the light. Huh. That was surprising, because it meant he’d actually slept.

After coming up from the basement, both men had said their goodnights. Tony had expected to spend the night obsessing over something new, namely what the heck was going on between him and Gibbs. He must have fallen asleep pretty quickly, though. Did that mean he was really okay with the idea of him and Gibbs being soul mates? Of all the things in his life he’d never have been able to anticipate, that had to be at the top of the list. So how had he managed to sleep so well? Only thing he could think of was the fact that Gibbs said they’d figure it out. If Gibbs said they’d be alright, then that meant they’d be alright.

Tony bent over, grabbing his shoes and slipping them on, before standing, stretching again, and moving to the front door. He’d get his kit, use the downstairs shower, and generally make himself presentable. He’d be at work a little late this morning; he had a dentist appointment.

Clean up done, Tony headed into the kitchen, only to find Gibbs, unmoving, standing in a t-shirt and sweats, glaring bleary accusation at the coffee maker.

“Morning, Boss!”

No reply. Gibbs didn’t even look in his direction, just continued to stare at the machine. Tony began to worry, just a bit. Had Gibbs freaked out overnight about their conversation in the basement?

“Uh, Gibbs? Everything okay?”

Gibbs raised a slightly shaky hand to point at the apparently offensive contraption.

“Coffee.”

Tony looked at the machine and then at Gibbs. The man’s hair was sticking out in many directions, as much as it could with that short cut. Gibbs looked tired, his eyes unusually unfocused.

“Well, yeah, Boss, coffee. I’m sure you’re familiar with it.”

Gibbs shook his head and glared harder.

“No coffee.”

Tony stared at his boss, then walked over to the coffee maker. Gibbs was right. There was no coffee. No light on the machine, nothing working… Tony glanced at the counter top and chuckled. He grabbed the plug and held it up.

“Electronic devices need power, Gibbs,” he commented, plugging it in. He hit a few buttons, turned a dial, and said device started doing its job. Tony turned back to look at Gibbs. The glare was gone; in its place was a slightly abashed expression. Tony was fully ready to tease his boss; he might even get away with it, since Gibbs obviously wasn’t firing on all cylinders yet. He took pity on him instead, though. Mostly. He walked forward, stepping directly in front of the older and somewhat incapacitated man. Taking hold of both Gibbs’ shoulders, he looked into his eyes.

“Go shower, Boss. I’ll bring you a cup as soon as it’s ready.”

Gibbs stared at Tony, processing the words, then nodded and turned to go. He reached up and patted Tony on the head as he left. Tony laughed once Gibbs was safely out of the room. He finally understood exactly why Gibbs drank so much coffee. “This is your brain on caffeine,” he muttered as he went looking for a mug.

Having filled the extra large mug he’d found in the sink, Tony walked up the stairs, through Gibbs’ bedroom, and right into the attached bathroom. Gibbs was in the shower; normally Tony wouldn’t have thought twice about going in and leaving the coffee for his boss, but this time he glanced at the blurred image of the body through the shower doors. Tony’s mind jumped back to the previous night’s talk… yup, Gibbs had brought up sex. Tony wondered why, exactly, Gibbs had taken the conversation in that direction. He looked over at his boss again, eyes trying to pick out details of the man’s form. Normally he’d never consider doing this; now, though, he was a bit perplexed, and besides, it wasn’t like Gibbs was going to notice in his current mental state. Sex with a man? Interesting concept. He’d had gay friends in college; it didn’t bother him, but he’d never thought about it for himself. Mentally shrugging, Tony fell back on his we’ll-be-okay-Gibbs-said-so mentality.

“I’m heading out, Boss! Got that thing at the dentist at eight, should be in the office by ten at the latest!”

Tony could see Gibbs shift position, and then the shower door slid open and his boss peered around it at him, hair plastered down on his head. Gibbs’ eyes were a startling blue against the darker than usual wet hair. He stared silently at Tony.

Tony sighed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

“It. Is. A. Real. Dentist. Appointment.”

Gibbs’ eyes narrowed a bit, still staring, and then he nodded once. Tony saw more awareness creep into them as Gibbs’ gaze turned to the coffee mug sitting by the sink. The senior field agent was just a little startled when the shower door slid all the way back and his wet, naked boss stepped out, made a beeline for the mug, grabbed the coffee, took several long swallows, put the mug back down, then turned and walked back into the shower, sliding the door shut behind him.

Tony leaned over to look in the mug. More than half empty, and the coffee remaining was still steaming. _Bossman must have asbestos lining in his mouth._ Tony grimaced a bit, then turned to leave. He made his way to the car, moving a bit on autopilot. _No, I did not just ogle my boss’ bare ass. And I definitely did NOT look at his… I really should find out what exercises he’s doing._

 **In The Bullpen**

Tony strode into the bullpen at about 9:40 a.m. A quick survey as he tossed his pack next to his desk showed Ziva at her computer, but all other desks vacated.

“Goooood morning, Zi-vah!”

Ziva looked up at Tony, favoring him with a small smile.

“Good morning, Tony. How was your appointment at the doctor?”

Tony flung himself into his chair and powered up his computer.

“Dentist, Ziva. You aren’t going to catch me making a mistake, it was a real appointment. Now, what’s the word, Girl-Probie?”

Ziva shot Tony an irritated look, than sighed and looked somewhat morosely at a pile of files on her desk.

“Gibbs has put us on cold cases. He is in MTAC, and says we will most likely be working on these files for a few days.”

Tony made a face.

“Where’s McAbsent?”

“Tim is downstairs with Abby. Speaking of Abby, I should warn you – she is acting very strangely today. She is more energetic and bouncy than usual. I believe you would say she is more fun than a barrel of flunkies.”

Tony straightened up and looked at Ziva, his expression incredulous.

“You have fun flunkies? You’re gonna need a really big barrel!”

Ziva shot Tony a more irritated look.

“I would not think the flunkies would be fun; isn’t the point of the saying that someone is more fun than they are?

Tony manfully resisted the urge to bang his head on his computer monitor.

“It’s _monkeys_ , Ziva! You know, I can’t tell if you’re really that hopeless or doing it on purpose.”

“Ah, monkeys, I see. “ She paused, brow furrowed. “No, I don’t see. Why on earth would someone put monkeys in a barrel?”

Tony tried to decide if an explanation would be a good idea. He was saved when he was able to redirect his attention to McGee, who was arriving back at his desk.

“Morning, Tony. Nice of you to join us.”

“Hey, McCritical! It was a real dentist appointment! What do you want, a signed hall pass?”

McGee nodded. “Pretty much, yeah. Watch out for Abby, she’s on a caffeine high.”

Tony grinned. She and Gibbs both.

“Well, you watch out for Ziva, Boy-Probie – she’s got flunkies.”

McGee looked up at Tony, then over at Ziva, who seemed to muttering something in Hebrew.

“Scary thought.”

The whirlwind known as Abby came flying past McGee’s desk and into the bullpen, coming to a stop in front of Tony’s desk.

“TONY!! You’re here! Please tell me you haven’t fallen in love while undercover at the dentist’s office! I don’t want you to get your heart broken again; you still haven’t really gotten over the first time!” Abby’s eyes were huge, gazing at him imploringly.

Tony groaned and flung himself back in his chair.

“For the last, and I do mean last, time, it really was a dentist appointment!”

Abby continued to gaze at him, then started bouncing in place.

“Good!! I’m so glad you aren’t lying to us again. I’d have to kill you and leave no forensic evidence. I’ve been worried about you, Tony! Oooo, I haven’t done your name yet!” Abby started shifting her weight from one foot to the other, repeating Tony’s name over and over and over… “Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony…”

Tony looked from her to McGee, who was trying not to laugh, to Ziva, who looked back at him with a raised eyebrow and an ‘I told you so” expression.

“Abs… ABBY! What are you doing?” Tony asked.

Abby broke off in mid-‘Tony.’

“You know how if you repeat a word over and over again, it loses its meaning and just becomes a sound? It’s a form of habituation to a repeated sensory stimulus. I’ve been doing everyone’s names this morning. I started with ‘McGee’ but it was easier to do with ‘Tim.’ Then I went to ‘Ziva,’ which sounds really cool when it’s just a sound. Now I’m going to do you!”

Tony leered at her, and said “Oh, really?”

“To-ny! Not like that! Not that you aren’t hot, but you’re my friend, and I don’t want to mess with that. No, I’m going to do your name. Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony….”

Tony grinned, although a part of him had flinched a bit at her comment. His eyes met hers, and he joined in, the two of them chanting his name together.

“Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony…”

A well-aimed ball of paper bounced off Tony’s head.

“Shutting up, Boss!”

Tony tilted back to look up at the stairs, but there was no one there. He looked around the bullpen – no Gibbs. Frowning, he looked over at McGee, to see him leaning back in his chair, crumpling up another piece of paper in one raised hand while smirking at him. Tony’s eyes narrowed and he began plotting vengeance.

Ziva looked desperately at Abby, who was still chanting Tony’s name, still bouncing from one foot to the other. “Abby!” she called, “How many Caff-Pows have you had this morning?”

Abby stopped chanting, and cocked her head, thinking.

“Three!”

Ziva shook her head.

“This cannot be healthy for you, Abby. It is an addiction!”

“Yeah,” Tony spoke up, “and Gibbs is her enabler.”

“That so, DiNozzo?”

Tony straightened up, punching random letters on his keyboard. “Morning, Boss!”

Gibbs met Tony’s eyes as he strode past the stairs, giving him a warm smile.

“Morning. Abs, what are you doing?”

Abby flung herself at Gibbs, magically avoiding his coffee as she pulled him into a hug.

“GIBBS! You smiled! Good for you, you should practice more. I’m making everyone’s name lose its meaning. You know how when you repeat a sound –“

Gibbs extricated himself from the hug and put his free hand on her shoulder.

“Back to your labby, Abby. Need you to take another look at the results from that cold case.”

“Ooo, good one, Gibbs!” Abby turned and started a swinging walk back toward the elevator, pony tails dancing. She chanted as she left, “Labby Abby, labby Abby, labby Abby, labby Abby…”

Gibbs seated himself at his desk.

“Get to work, people!”

 **Down To The Labby**

“With me, DiNozzo! Bring those files and go through the evidence with Abby after I leave.”

“On it, Boss!”

The day had been pretty normal so far. They’d worked relatively steadily the rest of the morning. Ziva had found a possible connection between two cold cases in two parts of country from four years ago; she and McGee were trying to run down the possible leads. Gibbs had been in and out of MTAC and had gone on several coffee runs. He’d brought everyone a coffee when he’d come back from the second one. Tony’d gotten a smile as well as the coffee, after which he’d gotten strange looks from McGee. A few minutes ago Gibbs had come back down from MTAC and announced that he needed to check on some retesting with Abby. Now Tony was following him into the elevator.

Tony half-expected Gibbs to hit the stop button. His boss seemed a little preoccupied, eyes narrowed, staring absently at the elevator doors. Yup, the hand moved forward and the elevator stopped. Gibbs turned to Tony, looking at him thoughtfully.

“How you doing, DiNozzo?”

“Fine, Boss.”

Gibbs looked Tony up and down. Tony laughed nervously.

“All body parts present and accounted for!”

Gibbs shot him a half-smile.

“Just looking for signs of ‘not fine,’ DiNozzo.” Gibbs sighed lightly. “I was thinking you should come over after work, we could order pizza, work on figuring some stuff out. But I have to run an op in MTAC this evening, could be a late night.”

Tony favored Gibbs with a big smile.

“That’s alright, Boss. How about I promise not to freak out tonight, and maybe we’ll do pizza tomorrow?”

Gibbs nodded.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“It’s a date,” Tony replied cheekily.

Gibbs shook his head and rolled his eyes, then reached out to start up the elevator again.

Tony had a sudden thought, and turned toward Gibbs.

“Do you promise not to freak out too?”

Gibbs smiled. “Yeah, Tony, I promise not to freak out too.”

The elevator doors opened, and the two men walked into Forensics, their ears assaulted by - the melodic strains of a classical waltz?! Both men stopped abruptly, looked at each other wide-eyed, then slowly crept forward towards Abby, who was standing at her computer. Tony resisted the urge to reach for where his gun would be as he visually scanned the room.

Gibbs got to Abby first.

“Everything okay, Abs?”

Abby turned around, giving Gibbs a small smile.

“Gibbs. Tony. Yay, company.”

Gibbs raised both eyebrows, looking at Abby with a concerned expression.

“What’s with the real music, Abby?”

Abby sighed heavily.

“I over-Caff-Powed, Gibbs. You and McGee each brought me some this morning, then I found important evidence for Pearson’s team, so she brought me one too. Then you brought me another one, and then the guy who fixes Major Mass Spec was late, so he brought me one. The music is an antidote… it’s really bringing me down, Gibbs!”

Gibbs reached out and patted her shoulder sympathetically.

“You’ll be alright. What have you got for me?”

Abby grabbed her remote, turning off the offending noise as she went back to the computer, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Well, Gibbs,” she began, glancing at Tony, who grinned at her. “And Tony too! I did find an anomaly in the DNA results from the case involving Lieutenant Pierce. The original analyst concluded there was no match, but I found evidence that he misinterpreted some potential contamination, so I’m rerunning the DNA now. Should have results for you by this evening.”

“That’s good work, Abs. That puts Pierce back on the suspect list, at least for now. All team names lost their meaning yet?”

Abby grinned, straightened up and saluted.

“Working on it, sir!”

“Abby…”

“Ma’am!”

Gibbs leaned forward to kiss Abby’s cheek.

“Don’t ever change, Abs.”

“Okay, Gibbs! Hey, I didn’t do yours yet. Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs…”

Gibbs shot them both a big smile as he left the lab.

Tony turned to Abby, who was still repeating ‘Gibbs.’ He grabbed the remote and turned the music back on. Abby wound down, pouting slightly. Then she smiled at Tony.

“Thanks, I needed that. I think maybe I’m metabolizing caffeine differently as I grow up.”

Tony grinned, remembering Gibbs earlier in the morning.

Abby hit the remote again, then looked at the files Tony carried.

“Rechecking evidence lists?”

“Right on the first guess!”

“Awesome. Let me just input some data, and I’ll be right with you.”

Tony watched while Abby opened up a spreadsheet on her computer. It was entitled ‘Gibbs Smile Log.’ Her fingers flew over the keys. She brought up a bar graph, then turned to Tony and announced, “Something’s hinky with Gibbs!”

Tony dropped the pile of files on the shelf, and stared at the graph. “You’re keeping track of when Gibbs smiles?!”

Abby nodded decisively. “Pre-emptive measures. I started after he came back from Mexico. All dates and times of known smiles are recorded, together with a rating system. There’s also a system for abnormal lack of smiles. McGee helps with data collection. We’re keeping track of his emotional state, so we can catch warning signs and proactively turn things around before he leaves again.”

Tony nodded. It actually made a bizarre sort of sense.

“Okay. So what’s hinky?”

Abby hit a key and an enlarged view of the graph came up on the plasma screen. They walked over to the screen, contemplating it for a moment. Abby started to explain, using her ‘lecture voice.’

“As you can see, Gibbs smiles in a fairly consistent pattern.” She used the remote to flip through several screens of graphs. “There is very little deviation from the pattern: a few minor highs and lows, nothing particularly notable.” Then she reached the graph she’d had up initially. The left hand side showed a very similar pattern compared to all the others. The last bar on the right, though, was much higher.

“Today represents an anomaly, and anomalies are significant. Usually Gibbs posts a daily average of around 3.6 on the GSS – that’s the Gibbs Smile Scale. Today’s average is a 7.275, or 7.3 if we stick to significant figures.” Abby turned to gaze at Tony. “That’s insane, Tony!”

Tony stared at the graph. “Where did you get a 7.3 from?

Abby used the remote again, and that last bar on the right switched over to a view of several different bars.

“Smile 1: a 6.7 when Gibbs brought me the Caff-Pow this morning. Smile 2: a 7.2 when Gibbs smiled at you in the bullpen. Smile 3: a 6.5, data input from McGee after Gibbs’ second coffee run, again a smile at you. Smile 4: an 8.7 just now, here in my lab. 8.7, Tony! Something is seriously wrong!”

Tony looked at the graph again. An average of 7.3 was certainly significant compared to the usual 3.6. He tried to ignore the funny, slightly flippy feeling in his stomach. Was this telling him something about Gibbs’ reaction to their conversation last night _? Did I actually make him happy, saying he was my soul mate?_

“Tony! What do we do? You must factor into the equation somehow, you’re directly involved in two out of four incidents, and at least peripherally in the third. What gives?”

Tony shrugged. “Maybe he’s found a new redhead?”

Abby shook her head. “I don’t think so. When he was dating Colonel Mann, he averaged only a 4.7. Of course, she wasn’t a redhead, but could hair color alone account for a GSS differential of 2.6? This is way hinky, Tony! You have to keep a close eye on him. We can’t lose him again!”

Tony shook his head. “Abs, you’re not making sense. Why would he leave if he’s happy?”

Abby made a frustrated noise. “I don’t know! He’s not behaving predictably, so we can’t expect him to behave logically. Tony, promise me you won’t let him leave!”

Abby was genuinely distressed. Tony reached out and pulled her into a hug.

“Abs, everything will be fine. He’s not going anywhere. In the meantime, stop freaking out by listening to classical music. Play some Android Lust or whatever it is, and have dinner with me tonight. I need some advice.”

Abby’s mood immediately shifted from worried to happy. She grinned at Tony, then moved back to the pile of files he’d left near the computer. Tony followed her. Frowning as she sorted through the files, she looked up at Tony.

“This advice better not have anything to do with your appointment this morning, mister!”

 **Autopsy**

Gibbs couldn’t help the big smile as he left Abby’s lab. Abby always brightened his day, and being with her and Tony, even for just a few minutes, had lightened his mood considerably. He’d been disappointed when he realized the necessary timing for his MTAC op would interfere with his half-formed plans to spend time with Tony later. He thought about that as he waited for the elevator. What was so disappointing? _Probably just don’t want things to get strange or awkward, which could happen if we don’t get it figured out soon._ The elevator doors opened; he walked in, hitting the button to go back to the bullpen. On second thought… Gibbs impulsively hit the stop, canceled the call, then hit the button for autopsy.

Gibbs breezed through the autopsy doors, finding Dr. Mallard and Jimmy Palmer standing over a body. Ducky glanced up at the sound of the doors opening.

“Ah, Jethro! This is a pleasant surprise. I wasn’t expecting you today, since you don’t have an active case. Our only guest is this poor Petty Officer of Pearson’s. Gunshot to the head, execution style. Died instantly, of course.”

Gibbs grunted acknowledgment. He felt a brief sense of envy; he’d rather be working a hot case than dealing with his MTAC op.

“Duck, you got a minute?”

“For you, Jethro? Any time. Mister Palmer, why don’t you take a break, get some fresh air?”

Palmer shot both men a smile, and turned to leave.

“Now what’s on your mind, Jethro?”

Gibbs sighed. “It’s about Tony, Duck.”

Palmer, who hadn’t quite gotten out of the room, stopped and turned back. He had a slightly panicky look on his face.

“This… uh, it’s not about his appointment this morning, is it?”

Surprised, Gibbs looked up at the earnest young man. He thought of just glaring at him, but remembered Palmer’s concern when they’d thought Tony was dead, years ago. He decided to go easy on him.

“No, Palmer, it’s not. It was a real dentist appointment.”

Palmer smiled and relaxed. “Oh, good! That’s great!”

Ducky smiled in his assistant’s direction; Palmer gave both men a small wave and left. The smile vanished from Ducky’s face as soon as the doors closed behind Palmer.

“Are you sure, Jethro?”

Gibbs grinned. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Ducky persisted. “How can you be? Anthony excels at undercover work. He had us all fooled before, you know.”

Gibbs’ grin got a little bigger.

“Tony’s appointment was at 8. I called his dentist’s office at 8:30, verified that he was actually there. Routine cleaning.”

Ducky broke into a relieved smile.

“Ah, that’s excellent news. I shall stop worrying. So what’s wrong with the lad, then, that you need to see me about him? Nothing medical, I hope?”

Gibbs sighed, shaking his head. He looked over at the next autopsy table; it looked clean. He hoisted himself up, and sat, a little hunched over, looking at the medical examiner.

“Tony’s fine. I need some advice, Duck. You said once that Tony’s like a son to me. I’m not so sure that’s really the case.”

Ducky gave Gibbs an incredulous look. He removed his scrubs, placing them on a side table. Walking over to his desk, he grabbed his wheeled chair and brought it over to where Gibbs was sitting. He sat down and removed his glasses, polishing them a bit with a handkerchief. He replaced them, folded the handkerchief and put it back in his pocket, then looked seriously and a bit sternly at his friend.

“Why on earth would you say such a thing, Jethro? You know you care about Anthony, very much.”

Gibbs nodded. “No question about that, Duck. Just not sure about exactly what I feel.”

Ducky looked confused. “I must confess that I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

Gibbs nodded again. “Yeah, I know. Tony came over to my place last night; he needed to talk over the case. You know how he got obsessed over Dana?”

Ducky sighed. “I certainly do. I also know he stayed with her at the hospital until she passed away. He must be having a rough time. What can I do to help?”

“Actually think he’s okay with it now. It’s what we ended up talking about that could be a problem.” Gibbs shifted on the table, moving his hands around a bit as if he didn’t quite know what to do with them. Ducky took note of the uncharacteristic movement.

“Do go on, Jethro.”

“Tried to work out why he got so emotionally involved in the case. He admitted he broke rule 10 –“

“Which you have done numerous times, Jethro, occasionally with near-disastrous consequences.”

Gibbs grimaced. “Yeah, Duck. I know. We ended up talking about his lack of dating, about the fact that he hasn’t been in a real relationship since he was undercover. I… I talked a bit about Shannon, tried to tell him it’s worth the risk of getting hurt. Said Abby would have called me and Shan soul mates. Tony said he didn’t need to find a soul mate, that he’s got me.”

Ducky’s eyes widened almost comically. Gibbs concentrated on keeping his expression neutral.

“Oh, my.”

“Surprised the hell outta me. After he got past the panic attack, we talked some more. Agreed that we might have feelings that go beyond friendship, or a sort of father-son thing. Neither of us have any idea what to do about that, but we want to figure it out.”

“Jethro, are you saying that you and Tony are contemplating…” Ducky paused, for once having to search for the right words.

Gibbs looked seriously at his friend. “Yeah, Duck, I think we might be contemplating an actual relationship beyond work, beyond just friends, definitely not a father-son thing.”

Ducky gave Gibbs a stern look. “Jethro, neither one of you has ever, to my knowledge, been attracted to men. Are you sure you’ve got this right?”

Gibbs laughed. “Sure? I’m not sure of anything right now. I’m pretty sure I caught him staring at me while I was in the shower this morning – no, Duck, nothing happened, he just brought me coffee. He slept on my couch last night. I’m also pretty sure I’ve been feeling more upbeat than usual today.”

Ducky contemplated Gibbs, who looked back at him steadily.

“Alright. What do you intend to do now?”

Gibbs scratched the back of his head.

“I’m not sure. I don’t want things to get awkward, don’t want the team to suffer for it, definitely don’t want to do anything that makes him leave.”

Ducky laughed at that.

“You’d need more than a crowbar to pry that boy away from you. You do know he’s turned down his own team at least once, don’t you?”

Gibbs looked surprised. “When?”

“Not long after you got back from Mexico. And Vance asked me about Tony not long after he stepped into the Director’s chair. He wanted to know my professional opinion of Tony’s abilities, because he was under the impression the frat boy routine wasn’t entirely legitimate. I suspect Tony’s on a short list of candidates for team leadership. But that’s beside the point. I don’t think Tony would take a leadership position if it were offered, not as long as he has the option to remain on your team.”

Gibbs looked uncomfortable. “That’s another thing, Duck. What if we start something up, and that influences his career decisions? I don’t want to hold him back.”

“As I just said, Jethro, I can’t see Tony leaving your team. More likely he’ll step into your position as MCRT leader when you retire. Unless, of course, the two of you exchange vows and go off to sail the world together.” Ducky smiled.

Gibbs’ tone turned gruff. “Ducky,” he warned.

“Jethro. I’m serious. Regardless of the fact that neither of you has ever shown interest in a homosexual relationship, both of you are mature enough to recognize that it’s the person who matters, not just the gender. This reminds me of a couple I knew many years ago, back when I was starting my medical career.” Ducky paused, but when the expected interruption and demand to get on with it actually didn’t happen, he gave himself a little shake and continued. “Their situation wasn’t one of like gender; it concerned a difference in ages. He was a good deal younger than she was, by about twelve years. In those days, such relationships were quite rare. They were both concerned about the potential obstacles, including the likelihood that were he to commit to her, he would miss out on the opportunity to have children, as she was already well into her forties. But they forged ahead, and had many happy years together.”

Gibbs grunted in acknowledgment and looked thoughtful. Ducky caught Gibbs’ eyes, fixing him with a very serious expression. “My advice to you, Jethro, is to talk things out with Anthony, and do it soon. I would also strongly suggest that you not attempt to rush into a physical relationship unless you are both absolutely sure you are comfortable with the idea. Are you sure, really sure, that the feelings are sexual in nature?”

Gibbs shook his head. “Not exactly. I brought up the idea, in a general way, ‘cause I was trying to understand the connection between Tony’s reaction to the case and him calling me his soul mate. Pretty easy to connect the dots between Tony’s pursuit of a woman and sex. Not so easy to connect that to what he said last night.”

Ducky nodded agreement. “True enough. And what was Tony’s response when you did bring it up?”

Gibbs turned thoughtful. “He’s brought it up himself a couple of times since, but just in a joking around kind of way.”

“And we both know that joking around is one of Tony’s primary defense mechanisms,” Ducky responded. “I would say his bringing it up means it’s on his mind. What about you? Would you say you find him physically attractive?”

Gibbs started a little at the question, but didn’t hesitate to reply.

“I’ve always known he’s a handsome man, Duck.”

Ducky gave his friend a knowing look. “And you have given me an answer that’s not really an answer. Well, my friend, I have told you what I think you should do. Talk to Anthony. Set some ground rules so that there is no awkwardness, or at least if there is, you’ll be able to work through it. I cannot stress enough that while you need to work this out, you should do so slowly and carefully. And do try to keep an open mind to all possibilities, Jethro. Love does come in a whole host of forms.”

Gibbs’ head shot up at that. “Never said anything about love, Duck,” he protested.

“Please, Jethro, the fact that you love Anthony and he loves you has never been in any doubt. The question is simply what form that love will take.”

Gibbs looked at Ducky searchingly. Finding the acceptance he was looking for, he nodded. He jumped down from the autopsy table, and shot Ducky a grin on his way out.

“Thanks, Duck!”

Dr. Mallard watched his friend leave. “Well, that is indeed a surprise.” He walked back to the dead Petty Officer, looking down at the body. “I do hope you’ll keep it all to yourself, my boy.” He headed to the side-table to grab his scrubs, but suddenly changed direction and moved to his desk across the room. Picking up the phone, he punched in a few numbers and waited.

“Ah, yes, Abigail. I have some data for you. One that started out as a 3.4, but turned into a 5.8. I’m not sure how you want to handle the data entry. Oh, and a 7.6. Do be a dear and add it to today’s tally.”


	2. Getting Some Female Perspectives

**Tony and Abby**

Tony surveyed the living room: beer, check. Plates, fork, napkins, check. Music Abby might like, check. Volume turned down to a level he might tolerate, check. Relaxed mental state… no check. Tony wasn’t sure what he would say to Abby, he just knew he needed to talk to someone. Life had gotten strange fast.

The doorbell rang; Tony ran a hand nervously through his hair. He wished he’d gotten a feel for whether or not Gibbs would object to him talking to someone about all this. Best thing he could do, most likely, would be to dance around the truth. He could do that - he was good at it.

He opened the door to find his favorite Goth standing laden with bags of Chinese take-out. Tony gave an extravagant bow and waved her into the apartment. Abby flashed him a bright smile, handed him the bags, and somehow managed to toe off her knee high heavy boots, leaving them at the door. She followed him into the living room and helped him unload the bags onto the coffee table. They both sat on opposite ends of his large couch, loading the plates up with food. Abby grabbed chopsticks out of one of the bags, while Tony grabbed the fork. They shifted into position with the ease of long practice, each leaning against one arm of the couch, facing each other like bookends, sock-covered feet up on the cushions.

Tony looked up at Abby after surveying his plate. “Hi, gorgeous!”

Abby grinned at him, and shot back with “Hello, handsome!”

Tony smirked at her, then asked, “So, is Abby normal now?”

“Oh, I love that movie! Gene Wilder is the bomb. ‘Werewolf?! There wolf!’ Can we watch it later?”

Tony smiled. “Sure, Abs, but you have to answer my question… all de-Caff-Powed?”

Abby rolled her eyes. “Would you believe Gibbs tried to give me another before he went up to MTAC tonight? I swear he does it on purpose.”

Tony agreed. “I think he keeps us around because we amuse him. He just doesn’t like to show it. So what was the final score on the GSS for today?”

Abby chewed and swallowed, frowning. “Ducky called me up with the weirdest data set. Then McGee e-mailed me a 1.9 when you and Ziva left for the day.”

“Ducky? Somehow I’m not surprised. So does that make things more or less hinky?”

“I don’t know. It’s still going to be a higher daily average than usual. I’ll have to see what happens tomorrow. You know, I was thinking – that 8.7 is a record.”

“How high does the scale go?”

“Up to 10. But a 10… that would be like the Holy Grail of the GSS!”

“You know, Abs, I may have seen one, that time we were in Stillwater and Gibbs drove his car for the first time.”

“Really?! I wish I’d seen it… must have been amazing!”

 _It was_.

They ate for a little while in companionable silence, occasionally having a foot fight when someone’s legs strayed too far over to the opposite side of the couch. Finally, after second helpings, the plates were left on the coffee table. Abby settled back into her corner and sipped her beer.

“Alright, Tony-love, talk to Dear Abby. What do you need advice about?”

Tony sighed. “Well… you know I haven’t been dating much lately, right?”

Abby gave him a sympathetic look. “So, what’s the problem? Is Don Juan DiNozzo really asking me for dating advice?”

Tony gave Abby a mock glare, and poked her leg with his foot.

“Not really. Just want a woman’s perspective on something.”

Abby made a show of getting comfortable.

“Alrighty! Shoot.”

Tony fidgeted a bit, suddenly restless.

“Abs, how come you haven’t settled down with someone?”

Abby smiled. “That’s easy! I haven’t found the right guy yet.”

“Sooo… you’re waiting for your soul mate?”

“Tony! Are you? Or have you found her yet?”

“Sort of… it’s just hard to be sure. I really don’t want to mess this one up.”

“Tony, this is so exciting! Who is she? How long have you known her? Don’t worry, soul mates click. You’ll just know.”

Tony wrinkled his nose at her.

“Seems a little overly idealistic, Abs.”

“No way! It’s true, you’ll know!”

“But what if that person is someone you aren’t sure you’re physically attracted to? Can you click with a soul mate but not want to sleep with them?”

“Of course you can. But odds are you’ll eventually become attracted to them. It’s the person on the inside who’s really important… the rest is just window dressing.”

“Huh. But how do you recognize your soul mate?”

“I don’t know if you can generalize it, because soul mates are different things for different people. Maybe an example…” Abby took another swallow of her beer and looked around the room for a minute, bopping her head to the music as she thought.

“Oh, I know! Take you and Gibbs!”

“Me and Gibbs?” Tony was the picture of innocent confusion.

“Sure. If one of you was a woman, you’d be the hottest thing since Brangelina! With fewer paparazzi.”

“What makes you say that? I mean, Abs, it’s Gibbs!” Tony shifted around in his seat.

“Come on, Tony! Talk about clicking! You guys were joined at the hip since day one. One minute you’re with the Baltimore PD, the next you’re on Gibbs’ team. He never, ever called you by the wrong name like he did with Stan for years. Years, Tony! You two can carry on an entire conversation just by looking each other in the eyes. Gibbs worries about you more than he does anyone else, even me. He’s very protective of you – you should have seen him when you had the plague. He yelled at me! You always have his back, and he always has yours. You’re the only one besides Ducky who consistently stands up to him and calls him on his mistakes. You’ve had some rough patches, but you worked through them, and you trust each other now as much as you’ve ever done. You two are as close to soul mates as I’ve ever seen. If things were a little different, we’d have been at your commitment ceremony years ago. Of course now you could legally get married… I could help you plan the wedding!” Abby gave Tony a wicked grin.

“Thanks, Abs. I guess I just have to find a female version of Gibbs, huh.”

“If you ask me, no one will measure up to the original, but since you’re both het, you’ll have to settle.”

“What if I can’t find her? Do I go for Gibbs? Can someone just add to their sexual orientation?” Tony tried to make it sound like a joke; he wasn’t entirely sure he’d pulled it off.

“Oh, Tony! You’ll find her, I know it. You’re totally awesome. You know I’m here for you, right?”

Abby launched herself at Tony, pulling him into a hug. He hugged her back. Part of him wanted to tell her the truth, to push for an answer to his question. The rest, he had to admit, was panicking a bit. He decided he’d better leave it alone, at least for now.

“Thanks, Abs. I’ll keep the faith. Ready to watch Young Frankenstein?”

Abby gave a squeal and squeezed him harder. She released him with a quick kiss on the cheek, then scrambled off the couch and started to clean up. He moved to help, but she shooed him away.

“You set up the movie, I’ll take care of this.”

She disappeared into the kitchen. Tony walked over to the shelves containing his DVDs. He put the movie in the player, pausing as he caught sight of a reflection in the dark surface of his flat-screen TV. His own troubled face stared back at him.

 _I promised Gibbs I wouldn’t freak. I’m freaking._

“Abby!!”

Abby came running back from the kitchen.

“What, Tony? What’s wrong??”

Tony stared at his reflection a moment longer, then turned to face her. Taking a deep breath, he met her eyes.

“It’s Gibbs.”

“What?? Did he just call you? What happened? Oh my god, he’s in the hospital!” Abby sounded panicked.

“No, no, nothing like that! I’m sorry. I mean – it’s Gibbs. My sort of soul mate. The thing I don’t want to mess up. It’s him. Me and him. Us. Maybe. I think… we haven’t talked about it enough…”

Abby stared at Tony, jaw literally dropped, eyes huge.

“TONY!!”

She ran to him, crushing him into bear hug, knocking the air out of his lungs.

“Oh. My. GOD. This is amazing. It’s incredible. It’s the best thing EVER. You are so perfect for each other. We’ve talked about it, I mean me and Ziva and Tim and Jimmy, but we didn’t think either of you would ever go for it… wow, wow, wow, WOW. Can I be your best person?! Have you kissed yet? Are there pictures? Please tell me there are pictures. Video would be awesome. WOW. Do you realize this explains today’s GSS rating? I love it when the anomalies make sense. Science rocks. But seriously, how did it happen? You HAVE to tell me, Tony!”

Tony tried to hang on to Abby, tried not to fall over, tried to process her words, and tried to speak. The latter was really difficult without oxygen.

“Can’t breathe…”

“Oh, sorry!”

Abby released him and stepped back. The joy on her face was almost blinding.

“Speak!” she demanded.

Tony recovered his balance and stretched his neck a bit, checking for muscle strain.

“Woof?” he said.

“Stop that!” Abby reached out and punched his arm. “How could you possibly justify trying to snow me on this? This is way too important for you to keep it to yourself. You need my advice!”

“Well, yeah, Abs, that’s why I asked you over to dinner.”

“So why were you letting me think you were talking about a woman?”

“Because I’m a bit freaked out by it all, Abs. It’s Gibbs. I can lose him by screwing up, and god knows I’ve screwed up enough relationships in my life. And this one is so important to me. Yeah, there’s all that stuff you said before, but that doesn’t necessarily translate into a relationship, like a romantic one, complete with the sex thing… can I do the sex thing? With a man? With _Gibbs_? What if we try, and I’m a disappointment? What if he doesn’t want that? Things were so good, and I had to open my big mouth…”

Abby put her hand over Tony’s lips, shutting him up. She looked into his frantic expression; her own was calm.

“Tony, you won’t lose him. He loves you. Whether it can be a romantic love or not, he does love you. And you definitely love him. I just didn’t know it really could be the forever, buy matching rings kind of love. But I just know you two will work it out. You’ve talked a little?”

She lowered her hand when Tony nodded.

“Yeah… Gibbs said we’ll figure it out. He wanted us to talk some more tonight, but he had to be in MTAC. We promised each other not to freak out… but I’m freaking out.”

“Is it mostly the sex thing? ‘Cause the you and Gibbs thing, you’ll be fine. But I could see the sex thing being a problem… not in the execution, but in the anticipation. You’ve never really thought about being with a man, have you?”

Tony shook his head.

“No, and Gibbs said he never has either. But we’ve both kinda admitted there’s something there.”

Abby grinned.

“Hey, that’s a start! So what do you know about guy sex?”

Tony felt the blush coming on and tried to suppress it. Unsuccessfully.

“Not much. Had some friends in college, they used to talk about it sometimes… but that was a long time ago, and I wasn’t exactly taking notes.”

Abby nodded decisively, grabbed Tony’s hand, and pulled him toward his desk, where his laptop was sitting.

“Forget the movie, Tony. You and me, we’re gonna do some research. To the internet!”

Tony followed along obediently, not that he really had that much choice. Suddenly his brain registered something important… “What do you mean, you all talked about it?!”

 **Gibbs and Shannon**

Gibbs made his way over to the jars and bourbon, but once he got there he hesitated. Sometimes the bourbon was just something to enjoy, sometimes it was to help him forget. He didn’t want either tonight. The MTAC op had been a success, as far as it went. There would be more to do tomorrow, but the timing would be better; he should be done with it, if all went according to plan, by late afternoon, and he could have that time with Tony in the evening. He’d thought about Ducky’s advice on and off, when he could give it some attention. He agreed with his friend; he and Tony needed to talk more, and soon. They’d both promised not to freak out tonight, but Gibbs thought maybe they should have planned to meet up despite the late hour. If he knew Tony, his friend would get worried about messing things up, about making things difficult at work, about disappointing Gibbs. Gibbs knew that he, himself, was already worried about what he’d told Ducky: the last thing he wanted was to lose Tony. He didn’t have so many friends that he could afford to lose one, and if he were honest with himself, Tony really was more than a friend already. He definitely didn’t want to mess that up any more than Tony did.

Gibbs moved over to a drawer in the workbench, opened it, and pulled out a picture. It was one of Shannon that he treasured. A close up of her smiling, happy face, eyes sparkling at something he’d said just before he’d captured her on film. Kelly had just turned three, and Gibbs was home from a tour overseas. It had been a wonderful time with his girls. He closed his eyes; if he tried, he could hear her laughter, smell the light, clean fragrance that always seemed to accompany her. He would forever associate her with sunshine and fresh air. Opening his eyes, he looked down at the picture again.

Whether he’d imagined it or not, the experience of seeing and hearing them again when he’d almost died in the car trying to save Maddie had begun a healing process for him. He could think of both Shannon and Kelly without feeling the horrible pain and sense of loss he always had before. Somehow he felt he’d gotten the forgiveness he’d craved… absolution for not being there to protect them. Kelly telling him to go back, that it was alright, and from Shannon, not the words so much as the feeling. Love, acceptance, a certainty that they’d be together again.

The basement was Gibbs’ place to connect with his girls. He’d not been entirely truthful with Tony when he’d said last night that without another marriage and divorce, there wasn’t likely to be a boat. The boats had never really been about his ex-wives… they’d been his way to be with his family. He and Shannon had built a boat together, many years ago, before Kelly. After Kelly’s birth, they’d started another one. Kelly had helped, when she’d been old enough. Gibbs sometimes felt his happiest moments had been in the basement with them, all working and laughing together. After their deaths, the boat and the basement had become his refuge as well as his self-imposed torture chamber, his way of connecting with his lost family. Sometimes he would talk to Shannon, imagining her answers, hearing her voice, feeling again that sense of belonging. He hadn’t done that as much since the day Kelly, Shannon and Tony saved him from drowning. Not building another boat was really a way of moving on, continuing the healing process that had started then. He really should tell Tony that.

Gibbs looked down at the picture, tracing Shannon’s face with his fingers.

“I still miss you so much, Shan. Always will. But maybe I’m ready to really let someone in, now. I wonder what you’d think of that.”

 _You know exactly what I’d think, silly! I’d tell you it’s about time. And then I’d smack you upside the head._

Gibbs chuckled.

“Yeah, you would. Wonder what the team would say if they knew the rules and the head smacks came from you?”

 _You needed those smacks. You were so angry at the world when I met you. I needed them, because it helped me get through to you._

“You cured me of that fast, Shan. And now it’s Tony, Abby and Ducky who keep my head on straight.”

 _I’m so proud of you for really talking to Ducky. You haven’t been so open with anyone since I had to leave._

“He was so angry with me when he found out I’d kept you and Kells a secret. I didn’t want to repeat that mistake.”

 _You did a great job, Jeth. You need his advice, so don’t shut him out again. You know, I can see some of Kelly in Abby. Don’t you think they’ll be great friends once we’re all together some day?_

“Kells will want to get tattoos, you know.”

 _Of course. And you’ll want to let her; you always had such a hard time saying no to her._

Gibbs could hear the smile in Shannon’s voice.

 _But Ducky and Abby aren’t really who you need to talk about tonight, right?_

“Nope. What do you think, Shan? Am I crazy?”

 _You always were, you know. Tony is so good for you, Jethro. And you’re good for him. I do approve. The two of you together? Oh yeah…_

Gibbs could hear the slightly lascivious tone. He smiled.

“You always know exactly what to say. Think I can handle it? Let the walls down? Not be a bastard all the time? Love a man?”

 _Jethro, when could you ever not handle something? You’ve come close… when we were first gone, remember? You almost made a huge mistake with that gun. I was going to shoot you myself if you’d been that stupid. But I couldn’t help you – I didn’t know how. It was too soon. You saved yourself then, tried to move on… you handled that, and you’ve handled everything since… not always the way I’d have expected, but you’ve always been you. That’s so important. You have a chance at love again. Take it. I’ve never wanted you to live with guilt for something that wasn’t your fault. Kells and I were so happy with you, Jeth. Remember that. And if you’re happy now, so are we. Kelly likes Tony, he’s funny. I think she might even have a bit of a crush._

“Hey! He’s mine.”

 _Yes, he is! So go get him, will you? Be happy, Jeth, or I swear I’ll find a way to give you some more of those smacks._

Gibbs smiled at Shannon’s picture. He could hear his favorite sound – her laughter. It faded away, and the sense of her presence was gone. He wasn’t going to think about what was real and what wasn’t. He was going to feel damn lucky, that’s all.

He brought the picture to his lips, kissing Shannon’s face gently. As he put the picture back in the drawer, he suddenly imagined doing the same with a picture of Tony. He grinned widely… yes, it was time to talk to Tony, see what was possible. _Tomorrow_ , he promised himself.

The smile stuck with him as he went up the stairs to get some sleep.

 _Bet Abs would call this one a 9._


	3. Anticipation and Trepidation

**From Dream to Reality**

 _He was in his backyard, tossing Kelly into the air and pretending that he was going to drop her. Kelly was shrieking in delight, and Shannon stood to one side, laughing and encouraging them both. He let go of Kelly on the upswing, so she could pretend to fly. He went to catch her, but she was gone. Bewildered, he turned to Shannon, but she wasn’t there either. All he could sense was the fading echo of their laughter. He turned to run to the house to look for them, but he wasn’t in the yard anymore. The sunshine was gone; he was in a tunnel of some sort. It was cold and dark. He moved forward, following the sound of voices. He stepped into a large cavern. The light was faint, but he could see people moving around. He watched as Kate moved past him; he called out to her, but she didn’t stop. Jenny walked toward him, but she seemed to dissolve just as he touched her. He felt a weight pressing down on him, and didn’t try to move as the members of his team circulated through the cavern. Abby moved away from him, and Ducky was over there talking to Palmer. Ziva and Tim were looking intently away from him, investigating something he couldn’t see. They were all so close but at the same time incredibly far away. He called out, but couldn’t hear his own voice. None of them paid any attention. A strong wind blew through the cavern; they all melted into it and vanished. He was left alone. The air grew oppressive, and he could barely see anything at all. It all felt somehow familiar. Then there was movement off to one side. He made the effort to turn toward it. Tony stood there, looking at him. He wanted to call out, tell Tony to go away before he vanished too, but instead Tony came closer. He reached out and felt despair, anticipating loss. His hand encountered warm skin. He was so relieved he could feel his eyes tearing up. But then Tony was too close. He tried to step away, but he still couldn’t move. Tony reached out to him and started unbuttoning his shirt. Confused, he looked down to watch Tony’s fingers manipulating the buttons. Tony slid the shirt off his torso and down his arms. He watched it fall, forming a puddle of cloth on the floor. He looked back up, surprised that Tony’s face was so close to his own. Then Tony’s lips were on his, a light touch that sparkled on his skin. Tony moved from his lips to his neck. His head fell back and a low moan escaped his mouth. Tony’s arms went around him, pulling him closer. Tony’s shirt was gone, and he felt their bodies press together. Tony’s fingers were at the back of his neck, moving up into his hair. He still felt helpless, but now he was light as air. Tony’s lips were on his face, moving close to his ear, and he heard him whisper–_

Gibbs gasped as he came awake suddenly to the sound of the alarm going off. Eyes wide, he stared at the ceiling for a moment, adjusting to reality. He rubbed his face with both hands, then groaned as he rolled over to shut off the alarm. He sat up, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, staring now at the wall opposite the bed. Dropping his forehead to his knees, he swore quietly. He didn’t need Ducky to tell him what the dream meant. Hell, he wouldn’t put it past Ducky to have found a way to get that dream into his head, as payback for sidestepping his friend’s question about the legitimacy of his attraction to Tony.

Gibbs took a deep breath, then shifted to throw off the sheets covering him. He moved off the bed, stretched, and headed to the bathroom. He had a lot to do today if he was going to make sure to have the evening free. He’d have been happier, though, if the day hadn’t started with his subconscious putting him in the starring role of one of those awful cable movies his second ex had liked so much.

 **Thinking While Driving**

Tony drove more or less on autopilot to the Navy yard. He hadn’t slept much after Abby left last night. The evening had become rather surreal after Abby sat him down in front of the computer. She’d sent him to a variety of information-packed websites about gay sex, and sat next to him, ‘helping’ with all sorts of enthusiastic commentary. He’d finally gotten up, taken her hands, walked her over to his couch, sat her down, and told her ‘stay’ while he cued up Young Frankenstein. He’d stalked back to the computer, face red as he listened to her giggling.

When he joined her later on, feeling a bit brain-fried, she’d tried to get him to relax by giving him a shoulder massage. Once the movie ended, he’d turned to Abby and asked again what she’d meant by saying the rest of the team had been talking about the idea of him and Gibbs getting together. She’d told him to relax, that no one really took it seriously because they all thought there was no way it would ever happen. Pure speculation. He needed to forget about it and focus on what he wanted to do about Gibbs, what his next move was going to be… especially since Abby stood to win the pool if he and Gibbs at least kissed by the end of the month.

He had to admit the research she’d forced on him had been… educational. Especially some of the videos. Imagining doing some of those things with Gibbs had kept him awake a good part of the night. Not in the fun sense, either. Tony had vacillated from intrigued to apprehensive, trying to imagine what it could be like. This threatened to completely alter his self-image. If this had been just about anything or anyone else, he’d probably have laughed it off and everything would have gone back to normal. But this was Gibbs, who always counted on Tony to have his back, who had admitted to something beyond just friendship. No way was Tony going to disappoint Gibbs by ignoring this thing between them. He just hoped he wouldn’t disappoint him by _not_ ignoring it.

He passed through the security checkpoint and pulled into the parking garage. He got out of the car, grabbed his pack, and headed to the stairs up to the next guarded entry. Getting through that second checkpoint, he looked up to see Gibbs standing by the elevator, watching him.

 **You With Me?**

The two men nodded to each other as they waited for the elevator doors to open, which they soon did. Gibbs gestured for Tony to enter first. He followed, then turned to glare at an agent who was moving fast to catch up to them before the doors shut. The young man faltered and slowed enough for the doors to shut in his face.

Tony snickered a bit, then cleared his throat and stared straight ahead as the glare shifted in his direction. He glanced sideways at his boss, and relaxed a bit as he saw that Gibbs was smiling slightly at him. _2.8, maybe? I need to get reference material from Abs... who now knows what’s going on. Ah, hell._

Before he really knew what he was doing, Tony reached out and hit the stop button on the elevator. The car ground to a halt, and the lights dimmed. Tony took a deep breath, and turned to look at Gibbs, who was already looking at him, eyebrows raised.

“What’s up, DiNozzo?”

Tony swallowed nervously.

“Look, Boss, I may have messed up a bit. I promised you yesterday that I wouldn’t freak out, but then I really started to, and I had to keep my promise, so I ended up talking to Abby, and I swear, Gibbs, she has some sort of psychic radar thingy, cause the next thing I know, I’m telling her all about us trying to figure stuff out, and I know I shouldn’t apologize, but I’m really sorry that I did that without checking with you first –“

The head slap was quite a bit gentler than Tony would have expected.

“s’ok, Tony, I talked to Ducky yesterday. “

“You did?! Wow. Okay. What did he say?”

Gibbs shrugged.

“Asked me some questions, wants us to take things slow. He was supportive, actually. And Abby?”

Tony grinned.

“Couldn’t be more thrilled. Wants to be my best person at our wedding.”

Gibbs chuckled.

“So,” Tony continued, “did you know the team has been betting on when we’ll get together?”

Gibbs looked surprised.

“No, that one got by me. How long has that been going on?”

“Abs said since you came back from Mexico.”

Gibbs nodded.

“Around the time they started the GSS, then.”

Tony stared at him.

“You know about that?!”

Gibbs just smirked at him. Tony shook his head, shooting Gibbs an admiring look.

“Just don’t let Abby know that you know,” Tony warned. “She’d say it would invalidate all the data, and she’d lose faith in science. That would make her depressed for days, and you’d go broke getting her all the Caff-Pows to make up for it. Either that or she’d guilt us into kissing so that she’d win the pool.”

Gibbs smiled again, a bit wider this time. His smile faded a bit as he looked back at Tony and found the younger man staring at him, a strange expression on his face. It looked like a cross between anticipation and trepidation.

“Hey,” Gibbs said softly. Tony started a little, and his expression turned sheepish.

“Sorry, Boss. Shouldn’t have mentioned kissing at work. In the elevator. Which isn’t moving right now. With no one else in it.”

Gibbs couldn’t tell if Tony was really hoping for a kiss or just babbling. Didn’t really matter either way; Gibbs had no intention of doing anything of the sort while Tony looked torn between leaning in and running away.

“Tony,” he said quietly, in a far gentler tone than Tony had ever heard before. Or to be more accurate, had ever heard directed at himself before. Tony blinked, shaking his head slightly. Gibbs studied his friend for a moment. “Tony,” Gibbs repeated, “if we get to that point, it’ll be ‘cause we’re both ready for it. I told you we’ll figure it out, and we will. My place, tonight, bring pizza. We’ll make a start.”

Tony nodded and, clearing his throat, reached to start the elevator up again. He paused when he heard Gibbs clear his own throat. Turning back, he looked at his boss. Gibbs looked uncharacteristically unsure of himself, staring fixedly at the elevator doors for a moment. Tony watched a few expressions flit across Gibbs’ face, and saw them settle into one of determination. Gibbs turned to face Tony, raising his right arm and extending his hand palm up, toward Tony.

“We’re in this together, Tony. Whether we end up just close friends or really together, we’ll be okay. You with me?”

Tony looked at Gibbs’ hand, which was shaking slightly. He looked up into Gibbs’ eyes, and then reached out and put his left hand on Gibbs’, using light pressure to try to reassure the older man.

“Yeah, Jethro, I’m with you.”

The two men smiled at each other for a moment, still holding hands. Tony felt the tremors in Gibbs’ hand subside. He squeezed Gibbs’ hand again, then let go and hit the button to get the elevator moving.


	4. Moving Forward

**Work-Related Interludes**

McGee and Ziva stood in front of the plasma, tossing ideas back and forth as they looked over the paperwork displayed on the screen. They both felt they were close to making a connection; they just weren’t sure exactly what it was yet. The elevator dinged; McGee turned around and saw Gibbs and Tony step off, both smiling. He hissed at Ziva, elbowing her in the side. She glared at him; he nodded his head in their direction. She turned to look. The smiles had dimmed somewhat, but hadn’t disappeared entirely. She turned back to the plasma, speaking to McGee out of the corner of her mouth, “Something is definitely hinky, as Abby would say, yes?” McGee nodded.

Both men went to their desks, settling in and greeting their teammates. Tony seemed to be bubbling over with energy, while Gibbs was pretty much his usual taciturn self – except that he had a hint of a smile that just wouldn’t quite go away. McGee wished it would; it was starting to creep him out, just a little.

***************

Tony was going through a cold case file at his desk, trying to track down a missing Marine. McGee and Ziva were still trying to find the connection they were sure existed in their case files. Gibbs was up in MTAC with Vance, working on the latest snafu in the op they were running. It had been a pretty normal morning so far; Tony had gotten head slapped twice, once for teasing McGee about something having to do with hair care, and once on general principles. He’d looked affronted when Gibbs gave him that particular reason; Ziva had noticed, though, that he’d had trouble suppressing a smile. Not long after, Tony had gotten up to go to the men’s room. Ziva had started to follow, but had been head slapped by Gibbs as he left his desk to go up to MTAC.

“Gibbs! What was that for?”

“Following DiNozzo to the men’s room. I do _not_ want to have to attend yet another sexual harassment seminar.”

***************

Gibbs came downstairs from MTAC to find two new things on his desk: a carton of Chinese food and a package covered in bows and wrapping paper with drawings of colorful balloons. At first he thought it was from Tony, but then he saw the note stuck on the package: _Do NOT Open At Work!!!_ Not Tony’s handwriting. There was a smudge in the corner of the note; Gibbs squinted at it, then held the package out at arm’s length. He finally gave up and took out his glasses. Looking at the note again, he smiled and shook his head. He left the empty bullpen and headed down to see Abby, carrying the package.

He walked into the lab, finding Abby at her desk in her office in the back.

“Gibbs!”

“Hey, Abs. Thanks for the food and the present.”

Abby got up and bounced over to him, giving him a hug.

“You’re welcome! How did you know it was me?”

Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

“The smiley skull in the corner of the note may have tipped me off.”

Abs bit her lip.

“Oops. I tend to draw those without thinking about it.”

Gibbs gave her a quick smile and brandished the present.

“How come?”

“Can’t a girl get one of her favorite guys a present just for fun?”

He stared at her steadily. She stared back, grinning wildly. He sighed.

“I’m going to regret unwrapping this, right?”

Abby’s eyes widened.

“Gibbs! It’s supposed to help!”

Uh oh. Gibbs remembered something… Tony told him in the elevator that he’d talked to Abby.

“Now I _know_ I’m going to regret opening this.”

Abby gave him a mischievous smile.

“Go on, rip it up!” She was getting excited about this, practically vibrating in place.

Gibbs heaved a mental sigh. He was pretty sure he had an idea of what was in there. He ripped the paper off the package anyway. Looking at the books in his hands, he could feel his face heating up. There were two of them: Get Closer: A Gay Men’s Guide to Intimacy and Relationships, and The Joy of Gay Sex, third edition.*

 _“Abby!”_

“Gibbs! Tony told me all about you guys, and you both need help! I already showed him a bunch of great websites; I thought you’d be more into books. You should definitely read the section starting on page 91 of this one.” She grabbed Joy out of his hands, turned to the right page, and held the book out to him.

Gibbs glared at Abby, but despite his better judgment he took the book and looked at it. Couldn’t read a damn thing. He glared at her again, and fished his glasses out of his pocket. Putting them on, he read the title of the section: ’First Time.’ He shut the book emphatically and reached out to Abby, gently taking hold of her chin. He looked her in the eyes.

“Abs. I appreciate the sentiment behind this, but don’t push it. Let us figure this out at our own pace.”

Abby nodded vigorously.

“This is it, I swear! I’m just so happy for you guys, and now you have some great reference material to work with.”

Gibbs shook his head.

“I’ve got to go, Abs. Have to put these in my car; can’t very well leave them out on my desk.” He gave her chin a little shake, then let her go, kissing her on the cheek as he walked by. He was just about out of the lab when he stopped and turned back.

“That reminds me… Tony asked me to give you this.” Gibbs pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. Tony had handed it to him as he walked past his desk earlier in the day.

“What is it?”

Gibbs still had his glasses on, so he read the note: “Abby, need reference material. Here’s some data anyway: 2.8, 5.6 and 8.9.” He looked up at Abby. “That last number has an exclamation point after it.”

Abby gasped, and snatched the note out of his hands. She read it silently, then peered at Gibbs suspiciously as he was putting his glasses back in his pocket.

“Do you know what this means, Gibbs?!”

He shrugged. “Not a clue.”

***************

Ducky came into Abby’s lab late in the afternoon, carrying some tissue samples. He would usually send Mr. Palmer, but he hadn’t seen Abby all day and wanted to at least say hello. He found her in front of her computer, looking at a bar graph and grinning widely.

“Hello, Abigail!”

She turned.

“Ducky!”

“I come bearing gifts, my dear. Tissue samples from the second victim in Pearson’s case.”

Abby smiled and took the vials, placing them on the counter and signing off on the evidence log. Ducky walked over to the monitor, looking at the graph.

“Ah, our friend the GSS.” He leaned in to look more closely. “My, these last two days represent quite the change.”

Abby bounced over next to him. “Isn’t it great?”

Ducky turned to look at her.

“Do you know the reason for Jethro’s recent happiness, my dear?”

Abby’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Ducky, clearly trying to discover if he knew something or was just fishing.

“I might,” she said slowly. “Do you?”

Ducky chuckled. “I might, as well. I can say that I believe it’s something that, in hindsight, has been a long time coming, although those involved do need to be careful.”

Abby nodded, still trying to assess exactly what Ducky thought he knew. “I think everyone’s aware of that.”

Ducky’s eyebrows rose. “Everyone?”

Abby frowned. “I mean everyone who’s everyone who knows something.”

“Right.. who exactly is that?” Ducky asked.

Abby shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “Well, Gibbs for one, obviously… and me, if we’re talking about what I think we might be talking about. And you, if it’s really one reason and not two. Or more! Yikes. And the other person who’s involved… who I can’t name because it would be a violation of confidentiality and please don’t push because you know I’ll say something and I don’t want to mess up!”

Ducky reached out and patted her arm. “Quite right, my dear. I have been Jethro’s confidant on this matter, assuming it is the same one, and I’m glad to know the other party has someone to talk with as well.”

Abby sighed. “I sure hope there’s really only one matter here.”

“Why is that?”

“I’m going to have to do the data analysis on the GSS, and multi-variable statistics are a bitch. And it would be great if we really were talking about the same thing, ‘cause then we could talk to each other too.”

Ducky nodded. “Perhaps I can speak with Jethro, and see if he can confirm or deny that the four of us do represent an ‘everyone.’ “

“Awesome, Duckman!”

Ducky grinned and turned to leave the lab. If Tony had been talking to Abby, he’d probably learned a lot already, and he’d share with Jethro… which, all things considered, would be advantageous in Ducky’s mind, as he was not really looking forward to the idea of being a consultant on matters sexual. He was a doctor, but still… there were some things he just really didn’t need to know.

 **Pizza and Baseball**

Tony stood outside Gibbs’ front door, pizza in one hand and six-pack in the other. He was dressed for a casual night in, but he wasn’t feeling very casual. He took a deep breath… he was pretty sure his life was going to change but he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that. He knew it was possible that they’d decide not to pursue the ‘soul mates’ angle, but he also knew that, having opened that particular box, it might be difficult to shove everything back in and keep the lid closed. He sighed. He wasn’t going to figure it all out standing here by himself. He put the beer down on the ground, opened the door, picked the beer back up, and walked in.

Gibbs was in his basement, looking at the picture of Shannon. He heard the door open and shut, heard Tony’s footsteps as he moved through the house. Once again he traced her face with his fingertips… he wasn’t sure what would happen tonight, but he knew they’d make some sort of decision. Shannon had encouraged him to be happy, both in his conversation with her last night and years ago, when they’d had that talk every couple has eventually, and told each other if something happened to one of them the other needed to move on. Maybe it was finally his time to do so. Putting the picture back in the drawer, he shut it firmly, tugged a bit on the hem of his t-shirt, and headed upstairs.

He found Tony in the kitchen, digging out plates for the pizza.

“Hey,” Gibbs said, walking in. He went for the beer, pulling out two bottles, putting the rest in the fridge, waiting for Tony to grab the plates and pizza and follow him.

Tony looked over at Gibbs. “Hey back. Finish up in MTAC?”

Gibbs made a face. “Would have, if the idiots in the field hadn’t screwed up. Got at least one more day.”

Tony sighed. “More cold cases, then.”

“Yup. Got the impression Ziva and McGee are about to turn a few cold cases into one hot case.”

“Maybe.” Tony grabbed some paper towels to use as napkins, put them and the plates on the pizza box, picked them up and followed Gibbs to the table. They set everything down and seated themselves. Box opened, pizza revealed… each man grabbed two slices and settled in to eat. “They’re convinced there’s a connection, but it seems tenuous at best. Cases took place in all different parts of the country, no timeline that makes sense or connection among the victims that they’ve found yet. Only thing that’s a possible link is the fact that all the victims were found in rental cars.”

“So they’re going on gut instinct?”

“Yeah.”

“Good for them.”

Both men ate their pizza and drank beer in silence for a while. Tony ate faster, and after three slices he sat back, drinking beer and staring at the wall. Gibbs chewed his pizza, watching him. He swallowed, drank some beer, and decided someone had better get the ball rolling.

“What’s so fascinating about my wall?”

Tony started a bit, then shot Gibbs a small smirk. “Needs paint.”

“You volunteering?”

“You wouldn’t want me to. Ask McGee… my technique sucks.”

Gibbs smiled. “Not real interested in talking about painting or McGee right now.”

Tony nodded, looking down and starting to pick at the label on his beer bottle. “Yeah, I know. Just not sure what to say.”

Gibbs watched his friend, who wasn’t meeting his eyes. “Look, Tony… we could let it go. I could’ve stopped the conversation the other night, dropped it, and we’d have been fine. We’re a team; that’s not going to change.”

Tony shook his head. “Don’t think that’ll work… Jethro.” It was a little strange to say ‘Jethro’ instead of ‘Boss’ or ‘Gibbs’ but Tony didn’t think either of those was appropriate to the situation.

“Why not?”

“Cause it’s out there. I don’t know that I can just shove it back in. Last night, when I was talking with Abby… I was letting her think I’d met a special woman, and we talked about soul mates. She was all into the idea, and I asked for an example, like how I’d know someone was really my soul mate… example she used was you and me.”

Gibbs had some more beer. “You sure she wasn’t on to you?”

Tony shook his head. “No way. When I realized I was really starting to panic, I told her the truth. No way she faked that kind of surprise and enthusiasm. Whatever this is, I think it’s real. What I don’t know,” he looked up to meet Gibbs’ eyes, “is what we should do about it. If anything.”

Gibbs nodded. “Fair enough. So what do you think you want?”

Tony held Gibbs’ gaze. Apparently whatever he saw there helped, because he straightened up and looked a little more confident. “I want to figure this out. I want us both to be comfortable with whatever we decide to do. What I don’t want is halfway measures. And I don’t want to jeopardize the team or our friendship… I’d rather shove this all back in the box, nail and duct tape it shut, and bury it six feet under if that’s what we’d have to do to preserve the team.”

Gibbs nodded. “I get that. And I agree – no halfway measures. If we’re gonna try this, though, you need to understand that I don’t do casual well. I can’t guarantee that the team stays the top priority if we get involved. I let my job come before my family, and look where that got them. I won’t put you at risk. And I’m not into sharing… if we’re together, we’re together.”

Tony looked at him. “Exclusive, huh?”

Gibbs nodded. After a moment, Tony nodded in return. “Okay.”

Both men stared at the wall, thinking. It really did need a fresh coat of paint.

After a few minutes, Tony spoke up. “So… I guess the question is, _can_ we do this?”

“What… the relationship thing?”

“I was thinking the sex thing. As part of the relationship thing.”

Gibbs smirked. “We could be platonic soul mates,” he suggested.

Tony shot him a horrified look. “No, no, no. I refuse to be celibate for the rest of my life!”

Gibbs laughed. “Wouldn’t want to condemn you to a fate worse than death,” he agreed. “Probably a bad idea for me too; I turn into more of a bastard when it’s been a while.” Tony laughed at that. Gibbs continued, “So our options are go back to the way we were or get hot and heavy with each other?”

Tony stared at Gibbs; his lips twitching in amusement. “Before two nights ago, I never, ever would have put you and the words ‘hot and heavy’ together in my mind. Not in any meaningful way.”

Gibbs gave him a mock glare. “I assure you, Tony, I am perfectly capable of hot and heavy.”

“I didn’t mean it that way, Jeth!”

Gibbs froze, a strange expression on his face. Tony winced. “Sorry, Jethro, I mean. Don’t like the other?”

Gibbs shook his head slowly. “It’s not that… no one’s shortened my name like that since Shannon.”

Tony sat there, unsure of what to say or do. Finally, Gibbs focused on him. “It’s okay, Tony. I like it.”

Tony relaxed a little. For a second there he thought he’d made a major mistake. “I guess the question is, do you think you can get hot and heavy with _me_?”

Gibbs looked, really looked, at Tony. His face, his hair, his arms, his chest, his hands… as he’d told Ducky, he’d always known Tony was a handsome man. “I think, Tony, that if I could get hot and heavy with any man, it would be with you. Ducky said what really matters is the person inside. I don’t think I’ve suddenly turned gay, I think it’s you. Just you.”

Gibbs stopped talking, feeling a little embarrassed. He’d done more sharing of emotions in the past couple of days than he had in years. Tony was turning red; that made Gibbs feel better.

“What about you, Tony? That work for you… about me?”

Tony swallowed hard, then returned the favor, looking carefully at Gibbs. His brain flashed back to Gibbs getting out of the shower the other morning. Slowly, he nodded, then cleared his throat. “Abby… she showed me some websites. I did some research… spent most of the night trying to imagine you and me… I could picture it, Jethro… I really could.”

Gibbs nodded. He wasn’t sure if that made him feel more or less apprehensive. “Abs told me she did that.”

Tony’s eyes shot to Gibbs’ face. “When?”

Gibbs got up and went into the living room, coming back with two books. He sat back at the table and handed The Joy of Gay Sex to Tony. “When she gave me these.”

Tony turned redder, but started paging through the book. “I could send you some links, if you want.”

“Where’m I gonna look at them, Tony? No computer here. Want me to prep for our sex life at the office?”

Gibbs went to give Tony a light head slap; to his surprise, Tony dodged easily, despite the fact that he was looking at the book. Tony glanced up, smirking. Gibbs laughed. “Tricky bastard, you could have dodged those head smacks any time, couldn’t you?”

“Of course.” Tony grinned cheekily.

“Why now?” Gibbs was genuinely curious.

Tony put the book down. “Because if we’re going to get involved, we’re going to be equals. Outside of work, I mean. You’re still my boss; I don’t want that to change. But you need to know that if you smack me outside of work, you can probably expect to get smacked back.”

Gibbs grinned. “I look forward to it.” He nodded toward the book. “Abs recommended page 91.”

Looking intrigued, Tony picked up the book and flipped to the page. His eyes widened a bit.

Gibbs added conversationally, “I think I’m partial to page 82, personally.”

Tony shot Gibbs a look, then flipped back to the new page. His face turned beet red as he looked at the illustration. He made a strangled sound and closed the book. “I’m really not sure I’m ready for that, Jeth!”

Gibbs laughed. “Don’t worry, neither am I. We’re gonna take this real slow, Tony. Best way I can think of not to screw up.”

Tony heaved a sigh of relief. Gibbs grinned at him and winked, then stood to start cleaning up. “Why don’t you go on into the living room, turn on the tv? I think the Nationals have a home game going on.”

Tony frowned. “That ancient thing? What’s the point?”

“Just do it, DiNozzo.”

“Alrighty then, Gibbs.”

Tony left the room. Gibbs noticed he was carrying the book. He heard the television turn on, then Tony was back in the kitchen.

“When the heck did you get cable?!”

“Got it for my dad, for when he visits. Didn’t want him to have to suffer through cartoons with the neighbor’s kids again.”

“Cool.” Tony retreated back to the living room.

When Gibbs finished cleaning up, he walked into the room with two fresh beers. Tony was sitting in one corner of the couch, reading something in the book. He seemed to be getting over being embarrassed. The game was on; only the fourth inning, but the announcers were already talking about a possible no hitter for Olsen. Gibbs put Tony’s beer down on the coffee table, and sat on the couch… possibly a little closer to Tony than he normally would have. Tony grunted thanks, apparently quite engrossed in whatever section he was reading. Gibbs leaned back to peer at the page; Tony moved the book and shot Gibbs a smirk.

“Just want to know what you’re reading!” Gibbs protested.

“Maybe I want to surprise you someday.” Tony waggled his eyebrows at Gibbs, who smiled and shook his head. Tony sat forward, had some beer, then sat back with the book again. Gibbs settled back in his seat, laying his left arm up on the back of the couch, not quite touching Tony, but definitely behind him. Tony, still reading, shifted back until his shoulders and Gibbs’ arm were touching. Gibbs suppressed a grin, then settled in to watch the game.

Some time later, Tony glanced up to see Gibbs yawning and scratching his head. He tossed the book on the coffee table. “You’re tired. I should go.”

Gibbs shook his head. “Nah, hang out for a while longer. Still got a no hitter going, not gonna go to bed now.”

Tony settled into the couch, then looked at Gibbs again. “Yeah, ok. But why don’t you lie down?”

Gibbs turned to look at Tony, who patted his lap invitingly. Gibbs raised his eyebrows. Tony grinned. “I’m told I make a mean pillow.”

Gibbs mentally shrugged, and shifted onto his side so that his head rested on Tony’s legs, his own legs up on the couch. He tried to settle in. It wasn’t easy. “Feels weird,” he grumbled, not turning to look up at Tony.

“Would it be weird if I was a woman?”

Gibbs shook his head. “No.”

“Then suck it up, Marine. You can return the favor sometime.”

Gibbs laughed a bit, then focused on the game. He couldn’t quite relax, though. After a few minutes, he felt Tony’s right hand come to rest on his hip, while his left started combing through Gibbs’ hair. For a moment Gibbs flashed back to being in a similar position with Shannon; he started to push the memory away, but then changed his mind. “Did this quite a bit with Shan,” he confessed to Tony. Tony’s hand stopped its movement through his hair for a second, then picked up again, almost feeling like a massage.

“Then I’m honored you’re letting me do this… just relax, Jeth.”

Gibbs finally did. After a while, between the pace of the game and the scalp massage he was getting, he fell asleep.

Tony continued to run his fingers through Gibbs’ hair, reasoning that if he stopped, the older man might wake up. It amazed him that he was here, like this, with Gibbs. It amazed him even more that he was getting comfortable with it. He guessed that Gibbs not objecting to the idea of them being equals outside of work had helped a lot with that… Tony didn’t think he could be in a relationship if he wasn’t an equal partner.

The game continued. The no hitter went by the wayside, and Gibbs slept on. Tony thought he should be tired, but he really didn’t want to leave Gibbs, which is what would happen even if he stayed over… neither one of them was likely to be ready to share a bed, even just to sleep. The game finally ended with Harris hitting a walk off single; the Nationals won 3-2. Tony guessed he really should wake Gibbs and head out. He changed the cadence of his touch in Gibbs’ hair, and brought his other hand up to Gibbs’ shoulder, starting to shake him gently. “Time to wake up to go to sleep, Jeth.”

Gibbs shifted a bit, then took a deep breath, blinking his eyes open and turning onto his back. He stretched his legs, and did the same with his arms, putting them straight out over his head and the arm of the couch. Tony was momentarily taken aback seeing Jethro stretched out like that, in a vulnerable position. Jethro relaxed his limbs and looked up at Tony. “Wha’ happen’d?”

“No hitter wasn’t. Nationals won.”

Jethro nodded absently, clearly focused on Tony’s face more than on what Tony was saying. He moved, propping himself up with his left arm on Tony’s thighs, reaching up with his right to cup his hand behind Tony’s neck.

Before Tony quite registered what was happening, he was gently pulled down for a kiss. Jethro’s lips met Tony’s with soft, sliding pressure. There was just a hint of a tongue tracing Tony’s lips before Jethro pulled back, looking Tony in the eyes. “Okay?” he asked.

Tony nodded, somewhat dumbstruck. “Very okay.”

“Good.”

Jethro moved forward. Tony cupped his own hand behind Jethro’s head; their lips met again. This time Tony’s tongue met up with Jethro’s, each one brushing just a little bit against the other. Eyes closed, both men savored the taste and feel of each kiss. The kisses started to intensify, brief pauses for breath mingling with the slide and sound of lips meeting, caressing and pressing together. Tony’s grip on Jethro’s hair became a bit stronger, while Jethro’s grip on Tony’s neck turned more insistent. Jethro sat up without breaking the kiss, straddling Tony’s legs. He leaned in, thoroughly taking possession of the younger man, his tongue invading Tony’s mouth and exploring at will. Tony stiffened, just for a second, then relaxed as Jethro’s tongue retreated, his mouth staying open, inviting Tony in. Tony returned the favor for a few moments, and then somehow both men backed off the intensity, turning long deep kisses into shorter lighter ones, finally pulling back altogether. They stared at each other. Tony was squeezing and rubbing Jethro’s neck, while Jethro caressed Tony’s hair and the side of his face. Slowly each man smiled at the other.

Tony stared at a grin the likes of which he’d never seen on Jethro’s face. “Now _that_ is a 10!”

Jethro laughed. Both men were suddenly aware of the sound of the tv again, the post-game analysis in full swing. Just like that, everything felt normal. Gibbs got up, extending a hand to Tony, who grabbed it and let the other man pull him to his feet. He expected Gibbs to let go, but instead he was pulled into a hug. It was a rather intense hug, with Gibbs holding on to Tony pretty strongly; not crushing him exactly, but definitely more than just a friendly pat on the back. Tony felt a wave of strong emotion run through him, and he found himself hugging Gibbs back fiercely. Again, they were strangely in synch as they each pulled away at the same time. Gibbs reached up to stroke the side of Tony’s face, a look of fascination in his eyes.

“Thanks, Tony.”

Tony nodded, his eyes searching Gibbs’. “Any time, Jeth.”

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

Tony smirked at him, and winked. “Well, maybe not in the bullpen, we might give McGee a heart attack. Or during a meeting with Vance… that could be very bad. Hey, if we get fired, we could become private investigators, like Magnum with a partner!”

Gibbs laughed. “You staying tonight?”

“Sure,” Tony replied. “I repacked my kit, it’s in the car.”

Gibbs hesitated. “I’d offer to have you share the bed…”

Tony shook his head. “Couch is fine. We’re off to a really great start, Jeth. Let’s not push it.”

Gibbs nodded, stretching as he went to pick up the empty beer bottles, then took them into the kitchen. Tony went to go get his pack from the car; when he came back in, Gibbs was standing in the living room, holding the other book Abby had given him. The one Tony had been reading was still on the coffee table.

Gibbs flashed Tony a wicked smile. “Coffee maker’s plugged in. You can bring me coffee in the morning after I get in the shower.”

Tony grinned back. “You got it, Jethro.”

Gibbs turned to head up the stairs, then paused, turned around, walked over to Tony, and gave him a light kiss on the lips. “G’night, Tony.” Then he was gone up the stairs.

Tony shed his clothes, grinning like a loon the entire time. He didn’t know about kissing men in general, but kissing Jethro was something that needed to be repeated. A lot. And soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Get Closer: A Gay Men’s Guide to Intimacy and Relationships by Jeffrey Chernin, and The Joy of Gay Sex, third edition by Charles Silverstein and Felice Picano. I haven’t read them; just went searching on Amazon. There really is a chapter entitled First Time, starting on page 91 of the second book. Page 82 starts a section entitled Face to Face. I have no idea if there’s actually an illustration on it. And the Nationals really did play the Braves at home on the evening of May 6, winning 3-2 on Harris’ walk-off single. Olsen pitched 7 1/3 no hit innings. I’m not a fan, just researched that too.


	5. A Dose of Reality

**Chez Gibbs, Friday Morning**

The next morning was a disappointment for Tony; by the time he got off the couch and went to get coffee for Gibbs, the older man was already up and in the kitchen, coffee in hand.

“That’s cheating,” Tony grumbled.

Gibbs turned around and flashed Tony a smile. “Woke up, can’t stand to just lie around in bed... not by myself, anyway.”

Tony grinned at him, then turned to head back to the bathroom to shower.

“Hey, Tony,” Gibbs called out.

Tony stopped and turned back. “Yeah?” Gibbs was looking at him rather intensely. Tony was suddenly conscious of the fact that he was wearing only his boxers, and Gibbs was fully dressed. He refused to show any awkwardness, though, calling on his skills with undercover ops to appear completely unconcerned.

Gibbs smiled warmly. “Good morning.”

Tony shook his head, but couldn’t help returning the smile, although he tried not to show how much Gibbs’ smile affected him. “You’re gonna have to stop that, Jethro!”

Gibbs frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You keep smiling like that, and people are gonna know something’s up. It won’t take long for Ziva and McGee to figure it out at the rate we’re going, you know. McGee’s collecting data for Abby and the GSS, so he’s paying attention, and he’s already been giving me some strange looks.”

Gibbs nodded, looking thoughtful. “I stopped Ziva from following you into the men’s room yesterday.”

Tony groaned. “Please, can you make ‘no Zivas in the men’s room’ a rule? It’s never a good thing when she goes in there. There were all sorts of rumors flying around after the last time. Would you believe Larry Johnson in Legal coined the term ‘Tiva?’”

Gibbs looked at Tony, completely confused. “Isn’t that one of those fancy recording gizmos for tv?”

Tony couldn’t help the surprised laugh that escaped his mouth. “Oh god, Jeth, Ziva’s infected you! No, ‘Tiva’ is one of those combined names, usually applied to actors when they’re dating, or some other famous couples. Like Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie being called ‘Brangelina.”

“Huh. Your doctor is dating an actress?” Gibbs shrugged, then looked sharply at Tony. “No sharing,” he said, mostly joking. He knew that Tony had agreed to being exclusive, and he also knew that Tony would keep his word.

Tony laughed and shook his head. “No worries, Jeth. I love Ziva, but not like that. She’s my partner, but honestly, don’t you think we’d end up killing each other if we ever dated?”

One side of Gibbs’ mouth twitched. “More likely she’d just kill you.”

Tony snorted and rolled his eyes playfully at Gibbs. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m counting on you to defend my honor. In the meantime, I’m gonna go get ready for work.” He left the room, both relieved and disappointed that he hadn’t had the opportunity to bring Gibbs coffee while he was in the shower.

Gibbs sighed quietly as he watched Tony walk out. While it was true that he didn’t usually lie around in bed once he woke up, he’d made a bit of an extra effort to get showered and dressed before Tony woke. It had taken Gibbs a while to fall asleep last night; he couldn’t get his mind off replays of kissing Tony. He wanted more of that, but the little they’d done so far made him feel as though he’d stepped into one of those alternate dimensions Abby sometimes went on about. He wanted some normalcy before he and Tony spent more personal time together. Not that he had any doubts that they would, or that he’d enjoy it tremendously when it happened. He just wanted to make sure he felt like himself first.

A little later, Gibbs was standing over the kitchen sink, looking out the window as he finished his second cup of coffee. He heard a noise behind him and turned. Tony stood in the doorway, dressed for work, leaning up against the frame of the door. Gibbs blinked; he’d seen Tony turn on the intensity when interrogating a female suspect, or when pursuing a woman in a bar, but he’d never had it directed at himself. He swallowed and watched unmoving as Tony pushed off the door frame and moved toward him, never breaking eye contact. Tony didn’t stop until he stood directly in front of Gibbs. He reached up and touched Gibbs’ face, the pad of his thumb brushing his cheek lightly.

Tony cleared his throat. “If I didn’t get to touch you before going in to work, I’d end up unfocused and awkward,” he said. “Last night was fantastic, Jeth, and it hardly went anywhere. I need to know if you want to keep trying this, or if you want to back off. I could walk away now… I can’t guarantee it will be so easy later.”

Gibbs stared at Tony, eyes wide, with a slightly vulnerable look on his face that Tony’d only seen before in times of emotional stress, like when they had cases involving children as victims, or when one of the team was in danger.

“I want to keep trying,” Gibbs said hoarsely, after a moment.

The happy smile on Tony’s face was a heck of a reward. Gibbs felt Tony’s hand caressing the back of his head, and then Tony let go and stepped back.

“Me too,” he said.

The two men stood there, starting at each other. Finally, Gibbs shook himself, then reached up and smacked Tony upside the head, albeit lightly.

“Don’t do that at work, Tony… I’ll get distracted and screw up in MTAC, and you’ll be on cold cases for weeks.”

Tony smirked, reached up, and smacked Gibbs on the back of the head; Gibbs stared at him in shock. Tony gave a mock mournful sigh. “Warned ya, Jeth!” Then he shot Gibbs an irreverent grin.

Gibbs shook his head, chuckling. “So you did, Tony. So you did.”

Both men left the kitchen, heading toward the front door, pocketing keys, wallets, guns and badges. Gibbs was about to grab the door handle when Tony reached out and touched his arm lightly. Gibbs looked back over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. Tony smiled internally; he could already see ‘Boss’ replacing ‘Jethro.’ It was a neat trick.

“Abby and Ducky know… what do we do about McGee and Ziva? Do we tell them now or hold off?”

Gibbs looked a little uncomfortable, but he gave the question the consideration it deserved. “I’d rather hold off, Tony. We’ve got a lot to figure out, and I can’t predict how they’ll react. Once we get a better handle on where this is going, then we can tell them.”

Tony nodded. “Okay by me, Jeth.”

Gibbs shot Tony a small half-smile, then opened the door. Each man walked to his own car, heading off to work separately.

 **Back at NCIS**

Gibbs and Tony arrived at NCIS at about the same time, having both stopped to grab some breakfast. Upon reaching the empty bullpen, both men sat at their desks, checking e-mail and carrying out other necessary mundane tasks. Gibbs could hear the ‘ping’ of instant messaging coming from Tony’s desk, but didn’t say anything since they weren’t working a hot case. He was just starting to wonder where McGee and Ziva were when Tony stood up and approached Gibbs’ desk. Gibbs gave him his best impassive stare.

“Gonna go check with Abby, Boss.”

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. Tony sighed. “She’s really good at keeping secrets,” he said in a low voice, “but only if she’s not surprised. She’s IMing me for info and I’d rather talk to her in person and keep things quiet, you know?”

Gibbs agreed. Abby had a heart of gold, but she also had a tendency to spill the beans if she didn’t have time to prepare. He made a little sideways motion with his head, and Tony was gone. Gibbs tried not to watch him walk away.

Tony stretched his neck and rotated his shoulders once he got in the elevator to go to Abby’s lab. It was one thing to be… intimate at Gibbs’ home, late at night, but it was another thing entirely to be around him now in the bright lights of NCIS, surrounded by people. He felt tense, like he was undercover in a dangerous situation, having to monitor his every move. He’d been afraid of this, and that was why he’d approached Gibbs in the kitchen the way he did, pushing just a bit. He needed to know that last night hadn’t been a one-time thing, wanted that to hang on to, to help him put the memory aside until later.

The elevator doors opened and Tony took a deep breath before striding out into Abby’s lab. Normal Abby music was on full-blast. Tony covered his ears as he walked past the blaring speakers, and easily got right behind Abby without her noticing. She was wearing latex gloves, holding a .380 semi-automatic, looking intently at the handle. He cleared his throat loudly, right by her ear. Abby jumped, whirled around, yelled “TONY!!!,” put the gun down, and threw herself into his arms.

“So?! What happened? Did you talk? Make out? Get down and dirty? Did the websites help? Did Gibbs show you his books? I got him some awesome books!”

Tony laughed. “Turn the music down, Abs, and maybe I can get a word in, huh?”

Abby flung herself at the remote, shut off the music, then narrowed her eyes at Tony. “Spill, buster.”

Tony grinned. “Yes, we talked. The websites gave me ideas, but we haven’t done anything like that yet. The books rock. And you won the pool.”

Abby shrieked and pulled Tony into a hug again. “That is so AWESOME! Is Gibbs a great kisser? It seems like he would be, he’s so intense all the time. Tony, I’m so proud of you! Way to push the envelope! You’re the man!”

Tony laughed and disengaged from Abby’s arms. “Abs, I need you to be serious for a minute, okay?”

Abby straightened up, put on a very serious face, and saluted. Badly. Tony ignored that.

“Listen, Abs, Gibbs and I want this to work, but we’ve got a lot to figure out. You and Ducky are in the know -“ Abby interrupted with an exclamation and pumped fist “ - but we don’t want to tell Ziva or McGee yet. Give us time to work things out, okay?”

“Of course, Tony!”

Tony grinned, side-stepped yet another hug, then started to back out of the lab. “Thanks, Abs!” He turned and headed out quickly, hoping to escape further interrogation. Abby was occupied with making a mental list of all the questions she wanted to ask Ducky, so he made it out unscathed.

Tony arrived back in the bullpen. Gibbs was gone, presumably up in MTAC. McGee and Ziva were back in the bullpen, in front of the plasma. That was normal. What wasn’t normal was the strange little dance they were doing: turning in circles, bumping hips, and exchanging high fives. A strangled sound came out of Tony’s mouth; he covered his eyes, and in a macabre voice called out, “Aaagh! The horror, the horror!”

Silence.

He peeked through his fingers to see McGee and Ziva staring at him as if he’d completely lost his mind.

“Hey, I wasn’t the one doing a weird little dance thing! What’s up with that?”

McGee beamed proudly at Tony. “We found the connection! We can link five of the cold cases to one person!”

 **Cold Cases Turn Hot**

Tony stood a little behind his two ‘probies,’ letting them argue their case. Ziva was grandstanding a bit while McGee was working the remote.

“We thought it was strange that there were five cases of Marines and Navy personnel found dead in rental cars, each killed in a different way. All five of the cars were reported stolen by the person who rented them.”

“Don’t you mean ‘people’?” Tony asked Ziva.

“Nope,” McGee stated, a smug look on his face.

Ziva continued, “We looked at the information on the people who rented the cars. All men, all different names. We were finally able to get two pictures of the driver’s licenses that the rental companies copied.” McGee hit the remote, and two licenses appeared on the screen. The men looked vaguely similar. “The facial recognition program cites a seventy-three percent probably of a match. We could not get pictures in the other three cases, but we did get names.

McGee jumped in. “It took a while, but we were able to trace the names and from there get pictures.” Another push of a button, and three more pictures popped up on the screen. Tony’s eyes narrowed as he compared the faces.

“If they’re not all related, I’ll eat my hat.”

Ziva gave him a confused glance. “You are not wearing a hat, Tony.”

McGee shook his head. “I ran the pictures through light analysis. The quality isn’t great, but the refractory patterns show different areas where we aren’t looking at skin, we’re looking at some sort of molding, like parts of a mask. So I used an editing program to eliminate those areas and fed all the resulting images into facial recognition. Results just came back, and there’s a ninety-six percent probability that they’re all the same man.”

Tony moved closer to the screen while McGee called up the adjusted images. Clearly they were all pictures of the same person.

Ziva chimed in again. “We have a serial killer who uses rental cars to stage unique murder scenes.”

Tony grimaced. “Great. Gibbs hates serial killers. I don’t much like them either. How did his victims die? And why is he targeting the Navy?’

McGee hit a few more buttons; the license pictures disappeared, replaced by a large image of a body sitting behind the wheel of a car, clearly having been strangled… the thick wire used was still wrapped around the victim’s neck.

“We don’t have an answer as to why, not yet. But as to how… first was Petty Officer Richard Dunham, strangled. Second was Lance Corporal Devon McNeil, shot in the chest.” The picture changed to show the gaping wound in the man’s torso.

Ziva picked up the narrative. “Third, Gunnery Sergeant Thomas Evans, drowned.” The picture had been taken while the car was still underwater. The man was in the driver’s seat, sightless eyes staring straight ahead, handcuffs tethering him to the steering wheel.

There was a strange buzzing noise in Tony’s ears. He was looking at the picture of the unfamiliar Gunny in the car, but he wasn’t seeing him. He was underwater, fighting to reach Gibbs, who was trapped in the car by the steering wheel locked in the down position, unable to move his legs. Tony was banging on the windshield, desperate to get through, lungs already screaming for oxygen. He got the windshield out with Gibbs helping from the inside, and then Gibbs was pushing Maddie at him. _NO_ , his brain was screaming at him, _not her! Save him!_ But the look of entreaty on Gibbs’ face, and the knowledge that she had been Kelly’s friend… Tony couldn’t refuse to save her as Gibbs wanted. Leaving Gibbs down there in the car to die was the hardest and worst thing he’d ever had to do.

“Tony? Tony! What is wrong?”

Tony blinked, coming back to himself, suddenly aware that he wasn’t in the river, he was in the bullpen. Gibbs wasn’t dying, he was upstairs in MTAC.

“Tony,” Ziva repeated, “are you alright? You are very pale.”

Tony stared at the picture again, then bolted for the men’s room.

McGee stared at him, open-mouthed and more than a little worried. “Ziva, what the hell just happened?!”

Ziva turned to look at the screen. The confusion on her face gave way to realization a moment later. “I think Tony had a flashback, McGee. Remember when he rescued Gibbs from the submerged car? Neither one of them has ever really talked about it.”

McGee looked at the picture; his eyes widened. He advanced the screen to the next picture, then handed Ziva the remote as he moved to follow Tony. “Call Ducky and Abby,” he told her.

Tony was crouched in front of the toilet bowl, clutching the porcelain and resting his forehead against its smooth surface. He’d violently lost the breakfast burrito he’d stopped for on the way in. He felt sick and tense and couldn’t seem to stop shaking. He heard the door open, and then McGee’s voice.

“Tony? You okay?”

“Thank you for not being Ziva,” Tony said weakly.

He heard water running in the sink, and then cool, wet paper towel was held out in front of him. “Thanks,” he said quietly, taking it and holding it to his forehead.

“No problem,” McGee replied. Then, a bit hesitantly, “You were seeing Gibbs there, weren’t you?”

Tony swallowed hard; he really didn’t need the reminder. “Yeah.”

Before McGee could make it any worse, the door opened again, and Tony heard Ducky’s voice. “Anthony, my dear boy! What on earth happened?”

McGee spoke up. “We were looking at crime scene photos, and there was one of a drowning, in a car. Tony zoned out, turned white, and ran in here.”

“Where I think I lost everything I’ve eaten for a week,” Tony muttered.

Ducky tutted. “Impossible, my boy. The digestive track processes food much too quickly for that to happen.” Ducky felt Tony’s forehead, then looked into his eyes, checking pupil dilation with a pen light. He glanced over at McGee. “Timothy, would you be so kind as to go out and placate Abigail? She is rather distressed. Oh, and if you would, please ask her if she can spare the time to drive Tony home. He’s experiencing mild shock and should rest.”

McGee did as he was asked, getting a sinking feeling in his stomach as he registered the fact that Tony wasn’t protesting Ducky’s request.

Ducky waited until McGee was gone and the door shut. “My poor boy… you do know that Jethro is fine, don’t you? He’s working with Director Vance in MTAC.”

Tony nodded. “Yeah, Ducky… I do know that, but for a moment I was convinced we were back in the water and he was dying.” Tony sat up a bit, leaning away from the toilet, resting his back against the wall. He looked up at Ducky.

Ducky looked the younger man over carefully, taking his blood pressure and pulse. “Yes, definitely mild shock. You are to go home immediately, my boy. Abby will stay with you until Jethro can get there. I’ll explain it all to him, and I’m sure he will come to see you just as soon as he can.”

Tony shut his eyes. He was suddenly very tired; he felt as if he’d been on the go for days instead of just a few hours. He heard Ducky clear his throat, and peered up at him to see the older man looking at him intently.

“I’d guess that recent events have shown you just how important Jethro is to you, Anthony.”

Tony sighed. “He told me he talked to you. Are we crazy, Ducky? Look at me, I’m a wreck!”

Ducky stared down at him. “Do not blame this on the fact that the two of you have finally taken some steps to acknowledge how much you care about each other! Neither one of you has ever dealt with what happened in that river, and this is the result. It may be early days yet, but I suspect you will be very good for Jethro, and he for you. I commend you both for being willing to express the love you have for each other.”

Tony started at that, and moved to stand. Ducky helped him up, maintaining a grip on his arm to help steady him.

“Ducky!” Tony protested. “It’s a bit premature to be talking about happily ever after!”

“Is it? As I told Jethro, love takes many forms, and it’s obvious that you two love each other very much. Abigail and I are behind you one hundred percent. Now, it really is time you go home and let her take care of you. As I said, I will speak to Jethro and I’m sure he will be there as soon as he can.”

Ducky steered Tony out of the bathroom, where his concerned teammates were waiting. Abby was wringing her hands and clearly in full protective mode. She didn’t throw herself at him or even say anything; she just cuddled into his side for a moment, then moved toward the elevator along with Ducky.

McGee and Ziva watched them leave.

“He’s still awfully pale,” McGee commented. Ziva made a noncommittal sound, clearly preoccupied by something. They made their way back to the bullpen. Ziva wandered to her desk and sat down, thinking hard. McGee fidgeted… the entire scene had struck him as extremely strange. He was sure he’d never seen Tony like that.

About five minutes later, Gibbs came down the stairs from MTAC. He breezed into the bullpen, headed for his desk, but stopped short at the sight of the picture currently up on the plasma. It was the one McGee had advanced to after Tony’s reaction to the drowning victim. It showed a burned out car with a charred body in the driver’s seat. Gibbs stared at the picture, then looked at Tony’s empty desk.

“Where’s DiNozzo?” The question wasn’t so much a question as a growl.

McGee started to answer, but found he’d reverted to his probie habit of stuttering. Ziva took over.

“Tony had a bad reaction to a different crime scene photo.” She took the remote from McGee and went back to the drowning victim. She watched Gibbs as he looked at the picture, flinching slightly. He turned to face Ziva.

“What happened?”

McGee found his voice. “Tony just… zoned out, Boss. He was staring at the picture, then turned pale and ran for the bathroom. I found him in there; I think he lost his breakfast. We called Ducky, who sent him home. Abby’s driving him there and is going to stay with him until someone else can get there. Ducky says he’s suffering from mild shock.”

Gibbs’ face looked like a thundercloud.

“Read me in on this case,” he ordered.

McGee and Ziva gave Gibbs an abbreviated version of the summary they’d shared with Tony. It was actually McGee doing most of the talking. Ziva was watching Gibbs’ reactions. When the Gunnery Sergeant was up on the screen, Gibbs looked particularly stoic. When McGee advanced to the charred remains of Lieutenant Michael Franken, Ziva noted that Gibbs kept glancing at Tony’s empty chair, and was absently running his fingers over his lips.

McGee went through the rest of their findings and waited for Gibbs to comment. After a moment’s contemplation, Gibbs told them to follow up from the bullpen, and not to leave the building. He checked his watch, glanced at Tony’s desk again, looked toward the elevator, then made an angry, frustrated noise. “Damn it!” he exclaimed. He headed off to the stairs, on his way back up to MTAC. Pausing, he looked at his team members and said, “Good job” gruffly before leaving the bullpen. Ziva watched him go.

McGee exhaled explosively. “I can’t believe he’s so angry at Tony!”

Ziva shook her head, looking at him. “He is not angry with Tony. He is angry that he is not with Tony right now.”

McGee looked at her, confused. “What do you mean?”

Ziva took a deep breath. “Do you not see it, McGee? Tony just had a strong emotional reaction to the memory of Gibbs almost dying. Gibbs was reacting to the memory of thinking Tony was dead… he was just more subtle about it. He does not want to be here right now, he wants to be with Tony. Gibbs has also been smiling much more than usual the past couple of days; Abby says the readings on the GSS are off the graph.”

McGee shook his head. “Chart,” he corrected absently. “I don’t get it; what does it all mean?”

Ziva bit her lip. “I think they are involved.”

“Involved in what? Some sort of undercover operation?”

Ziva smiled at that. “In a way, yes. I think Gibbs and Tony are involved romantically.”

McGee stared at her. Ziva tossed a wicked little grin in his direction, but her smile faded quickly at the stony expression on McGee’s face.

“No way, Ziva. Just… just no. They would never… “ McGee seemed to struggle with what he wanted to say. He finally just looked at Ziva, his expression shuttered. “Don’t say that again. Don’t even think it.” He turned and strode out of the bullpen.

Ziva stared after him, open-mouthed. She hadn’t anticipated such a reaction on his part. She was sure McGee wasn’t homophobic… he’d had no problem interacting with homosexual men and women in the past, and was one of the more open-minded people she knew. Something else had to be going on. “This is going to be a problem,” she mused as she moved back to her desk to begin following up on their case.


	6. Whole Lotta Talkin' Goin' On

**Tony and Abby**

Abby had driven Tony home, after Ducky helped get him to the car. Once at the apartment, Tony had hit the bathroom and cleaned up. Now he was sitting on that huge couch, leaning against the arm, staring into space. His color was back, which was a good thing; his silence, though, spoke volumes about his actual state of mind.

Abby was on the floor near where he sat, leaning her head on his thigh, her arms wrapped around his leg. For all her hyper, crazy moods, Abby knew when to be quiet. She also knew Tony well enough to stay that way until he was ready to talk. Every so often she simply squeezed his leg or rubbed her cheek on his thigh, and just waited.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Abby.” Tony’s voice was quiet, almost monotone. Abby thought maybe that was worse than the silence.

“Do what?” she asked, although she was pretty sure she knew the answer.

“Get involved with Gibbs.”

“Is that why it hit you so hard? It was a long time ago, when you rescued him from the river.”

Tony shrugged. “I suppose. That, and we never really talked about it. I got a nod and a ‘good job DiNozzo.’ And a bunch of nightmares, but they went away after a while.”

Abby sighed. “Tony… I know it’s really difficult to love Gibbs sometimes. Oh! Not that I love him that way, so you don’t have to worry about me wanting to arm wrestle you for him or anything! He’s not easy to deal with when he gets all Hero Protector. And that’s just it… he wants us to stay safe, so sometimes he keeps us out of the loop. But Tony, you need to talk to him about it, tell him how you feel. Like when he’s so stupid as to do all the stuff he tells us not to do, maybe make up some rules for him to follow, you know?” Abby let go of Tony’s leg, sat up, and turned to look up at him earnestly. “Here’s the thing – you make Gibbs happy, and I’ve got the data to prove it. And he makes you happy; you’d never have risked trying this if you didn’t feel the payoff would be worth it. I think you and Gibbs together is worth it.”

Tony looked at Abby for a long moment, then reached out, took hold of her hand, and pulled her up on the couch. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her and burying his face in her shoulder. She hugged him back, smiling. Tony hugs were the best, ‘cause he didn’t hold anything back.

“Abs?” His voice was muffled against her shirt.

“Yeah, Tony?”

“Just for the record, I would SO beat you at arm wrestling.”

 **Gibbs and Ducky**

Gibbs punched the elevator button rather savagely. He’d been stuck in MTAC longer than he’d wanted. Then, once he’d finally gotten out, McGee and Ziva had needed to know what to do about the rental car killer. They’d managed to track him down; he’d recently gotten a driver’s license in Louisiana. He’d told them to forward all their information to the nearest NCIS offices and leave it at that. They’d been disappointed, but he wasn’t about to send them off on their own, nor was he going to put off seeing Tony. He’d told them it was a good job; Ziva appeared satisfied, but McGee had avoided looking at him. Unusual, but he couldn’t worry about that right now. He needed to get an update on Tony from Ducky, and quickly, because he didn’t want to delay getting to Tony’s place any more than he absolutely had to.

Gibbs marched off the elevator and into Autopsy. Palmer looked up with a smile of greeting, which quickly faded when he saw the expression on Gibbs’ face. He gave Gibbs a quick nod and made his way out of Autopsy at a walk just short of a run.

“What’s the latest, Ducky?”

Ducky was sitting at his desk, filling out some forms. He looked up and smiled benignly at Gibbs. “Ah, Jethro. I expected to see you earlier.”

Gibbs made an impatient motion with his hand. “Had to see the MTAC operation to its end. How’s Tony?”

Ducky sat back in his chair and regarded Gibbs seriously. “Young Anthony will be fine, Jethro. He had a nasty shock when he saw that crime scene photo, a severe emotional reaction. As you know, strong emotions can have a distinctly physical effect on the body. Actually, Anthony’s situation reminds me of this young man I knew in medical school. He was always tightly wound, and when it came time for his exams, he –“

“Ducky! Tony’s condition?!”

Ducky smiled a bit. Gibbs’ impatience was a good sign. “Well… he suffered from violent emesis, coupled with a spike and then a sustained drop in blood pressure. Pulse was somewhat rapid, and his balance when standing was mildly compromised. Abby took him home, as he needs rest and quiet to process his emotions.” Ducky paused and directed a piercing look at Gibbs. “Frankly, I’m a bit surprised that he suffered such a severe reaction as a result of a flashback to events of a few years ago. Anthony doesn’t tend to suppress his emotions like some do. My guess is that you never really talked things over after it happened.”

Gibbs stood still as he remembered the events following his near-drowning. Paramedics checking out all three of them, getting dragged to the hospital for some tests, signing himself out AMA, and checking on Tony, since Dr. Pitt insisted he stay overnight to monitor lung function... picking Tony up the next morning and dropping him off at home… that was it.

“We didn’t talk about it,” Gibbs admitted. “I told him he did a good job, and everything was back to normal two days later.”

Ducky rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Well, my friend, you have your work cut out for you. You and Anthony do need to sit down and talk this out, or you may risk triggering another similar reaction in the wrong setting.”

Gibbs sighed. Seemed all he was doing lately was talking. It was as if he was making up for the past almost-two decades.

“And what of you, Jethro? How did you feel about that picture of the victim in the burned car?”

Gibbs shifted uncomfortably. “It bothered me… but I knew it wasn’t Tony.”

Ducky waited, then sighed when nothing more was forthcoming. “Go see him, Jethro. And resolve this!”

“Gotcha, Duck.” Gibbs turned to leave, then paused as he remembered something. “We’re off rotation this weekend… see you Monday.”

Ducky nodded and waved, turning back to his paperwork. He chuckled a bit after he heard the doors swish closed. _Jethro should have a very interesting weekend_ , he thought.

 **Gibbs and Abby**

Gibbs took the stairs to Tony’s apartment two at a time. When he reached Tony’s door, Gibbs used his emergency key to let himself in. He knew Abby was there, but he didn’t want to knock or ring the bell in case Tony was sleeping. Once inside, he shut the door quietly, took off his jacket and shoes, and moved out of the short entryway and into the living room. He found Tony fast asleep on the couch, and Abby sitting in a big recliner, looking up as Gibbs walked in. She glanced at Tony, then got up and walked quickly over to Gibbs, wrapping her arms around him for a hug. It only lasted a moment, very short by Abby standards; she pulled back, grabbed his hand, and led him down the hall into Tony’s bedroom, pushing the door almost all the way shut.

“How is he?” Gibbs asked.

“Okay, now that he’s getting some sleep. He was really drained, Gibbs!”

Gibbs sighed. “I know, Abs.”

“Do you? Gibbs, he said you’ve never talked about what happened when he saved you and Maddie. He’s had it bottled up inside all this time, and today it just all imploded when he saw that crime scene photo. He’s scared, Gibbs!”

Gibbs looked at her, puzzled. “Scared of what, Abs? Ziva and McGee tracked down the killer; a team of agents down south should be on the way to apprehend him now.”

Abby grimaced and punched Gibbs in the upper arm.

“Ow, Abs!”

“Oh, stop being a baby. Gibbs, you need, and I mean you really really _need_ to talk to Tony. He’s not scared of some weird car-obsessed killer, he scared of losing you. And I don’t mean losing you in the sense of things not working between the two of you; I mean the dead kind of losing. He almost did lose you that time, and he was reminded of it today. I want you to stay here and talk to him and work things out, and I don’t want to see you back at work until you do!”

Gibbs’ eyebrows threatened to disappear up into his hair, but he had to admit to himself that both Abby and Ducky were right. There were things that were long overdue, and this conversation was one of them. He leaned forward and kissed Abby on the cheek.

“MTAC operation’s over. Team’s got the weekend off… I promise you that I’ll stay here with Tony until we either work this out or he kicks me out, how’s that?”

Abby straightened up, looked Gibbs in the eye, and intoned, “That will be acceptable.” She moved into Gibbs’ personal space and hugged him again, hard. “Don’t mess this up, Gibbs,” she whispered. She squeezed him tight for a minute, then let go. “I have to get back to work… I keep forgetting you’re not the only team at NCIS.”

Gibbs followed her out of the room, watching her for a moment as she gathered her things, then turning his focus on to Tony, who was still fast asleep. Abby watched him watching Tony, then smiled to herself as she let herself out and set off for the Navy yard.

Gibbs made his way over to the recliner Abby had vacated; there was a stack of magazines on the floor next to it. Deciding he might as well do something while he waited for Tony to wake up, Gibbs sat in the recliner, picked up a magazine, and started flipping through it absently. He glanced over at Tony every few minutes, eyes lingering on Tony’s face each time. After about fifteen minutes alternating between trying to figure out what to say when Tony woke up and just watching the man sleep, Gibbs was out like a light.

 **Abby and Ducky**

Abby made her way down to Autopsy, relieved when she walked in to find Ducky alone, with no sign of Jimmy. “Ducky!”

He looked up from the forms he was working on and smiled. “Abigail. I take it Jethro arrived at Anthony’s apartment?” He got up to meet her and was enveloped in a hug.

Abby nodded as she pulled back. “I left him sitting in Tony’s recliner, watching him sleeping on the couch.”

“Ah, very good. What was Anthony’s state of health when you left?”

“His color was back, he looked better, didn’t want to eat anything, and is worried that getting involved with Gibbs is a bad idea.” She paused and looked at Ducky earnestly. “Tony told me this morning that Gibbs talked to you about them.”

“Indeed he did. And Jethro told me this morning that Anthony had confided in you. It would seem that we are indeed an everyone.” Ducky smiled again.

“Do you think they’ll be alright, Ducky? What if Tony decides he can’t deal? Will it break Gibbs’ heart? I don’t want anyone broken!” Abby started fidgeting with her hands, pacing in front of the medical examiner.

Ducky sighed. “My dear girl, I cannot predict what either Anthony or Jethro will do about this. Jethro was just as affected as Anthony; he just hides it better. I don’t think either one will give up on the other, but whether this will limit their relationship… well, only time will tell.”

Abby started to reply, but stopped and turned at the sound of the Autopsy doors opening. Ziva walked in and stood there, looking uncharacteristically uncertain. “I am sorry to interrupt. Abby? Could I talk to you?”

Abby glanced at Ducky, who patted her arm encouragingly. “Go right ahead, my dear. We shall see how our friends are faring on Monday, and if needed, we will take some steps.”

Abby sighed. “Alright – but it’s going to be difficult to wait until then!” She turned to Ziva. “Come on, we’ll go to my lab for some girl talk!”

 **Abby and Ziva**

The two women made their way to the lab. Abby led Ziva to the inner office; she pulled her chair out from behind the desk while Ziva grabbed another and brought it over. They sat and looked at each other for a moment.

“How is Tony?” Ziva asked.

“He’s alright. Or he will be. Gibbs is with him now.”

Ziva cleared her throat, and jumped right in.

“Gibbs and Tony… they are together, yes?”

Abby started a bit, but recovered quickly. “Wow, Ziva. What makes you think that?”

Ziva shot her an indecipherable look, then sighed. “In Mossad, we are trained to look for changes in behavior. Friends can so easily become enemies; you learn to trust very few people without cause. I might not be as good as Gibbs or Tony at analyzing the behavior of someone I have not met before, but I can see and interpret changes in those I do know. Tony and Gibbs have been acting differently around each other. Gibbs has been smiling at Tony a lot more than usual. This morning, after you left with Tony, Gibbs wanted to know what happened. He reacted almost as strongly to a picture of a burned corpse in a car as Tony did to the picture of the drowning victim. It was obvious to me that Gibbs wanted to be with Tony. From there, I simply put it all together.”

Abby sighed. She knew lying to Ziva wouldn’t work, and she didn’t really want to anyway. “They’ve just realized that what they feel for each other goes way beyond coworkers or even friendship. They’re working things out, and they’re taking their time. I’m sure once they have it figured out, they’ll tell you and Timmy.”

Ziva nodded. “We may have a problem, then.”

Abby bristled. “Ziva! I know you and Tony have this special vibe, but how can you want to try to ruin things for them?”

Ziva sat back as if she’d be slapped. “Abby, I do not want to ruin anything! Tony is my partner. Yes, perhaps in the past I had some romantic feelings toward him, but we talked after Somalia, and we both agreed we are better off as friends, nothing more. If Tony and Gibbs can be happy and still work effectively together, I am fine with it.”

Abby frowned, a little upset. “Then why did you say you have a problem?”

“I did not mean that I have a problem, Abby. I spoke to McGee of my suspicion that the two of them are involved romantically, and he got very angry with me. He told me not to speak of it again, not to even think it. He would not speak to Gibbs or even look at him later when Gibbs asked about the case we are working on.”

Abby stared at her. “Really?! He didn’t seem to have a problem when we got that pool going. Which I have so won, by the way!”

Ziva smiled. “I require proof,” she said playfully. She turned serious again. “I was very surprised. And now I am worried. Why would McGee act that way? He is not homophobic, correct?”

Abby shook her head. “Definitely not. I don’t understand it.”

Ziva hesitated, then spoke again. “You do not think that he is interested in Tony or Gibbs as a romantic partner, do you?”

Abby’s eyes widened, and her hands flew up to her mouth. “That would be awful! That would so totally suck. Poor Timmy! I have to talk to him.”

Ziva nodded. “Please. I do not want the team to fall apart. I think it would be best if we could nip this in the branch.”

Abby looked at her, puzzled. “Oh! Bud, Ziva.”

“Ah, of course.” Ziva stood to leave. “Should I tell McGee that you need to see him?”

Abby nodded.

Ziva took a few steps toward the door, then turned back. “Abby, what exactly do you mean by me and Tony having a ‘vibe?’”

Abby laughed. “Ziva, half of NCIS thinks you two are lovers, and the other half thinks you were. There’s a bet on about Gibbs’ reaction when he finds out you broke rule 12.”

“We never broke rule 12, Abby! Although I am looking forward to Gibbs’ explanation of why it is alright for him and Tony to break it. Why does everyone think Tony and I were involved?”

“Because you guys flirt all the time. And you’re both gorgeous. And you follow him into the men’s room on a semi-regular basis. Larry Johnson refers to the two of you as ‘Tiva.’”

“Larry Johnson in Legal?”

Abby nodded. “Yup.”

Ziva’s eyes narrowed. “I will kill him.”

 **Abby and McGee**

McGee walked into Abby’s lab and was a little surprised by the music blaring into the room… Bobby McFerrin was singing ‘Don’t Worry, Be Happy.’

“Abby?!”

“TIMMY!!” Abby ran forward, grabbed McGee by the hand, and pulled him into the back office, where she had incense burning. She grabbed his shoulders, turned him away from her, removed his sport coat, grabbed his shoulders again, turned him to face her, and pushed him into a chair. Said chair was on wheels, and she pushed that over to the incense.

“Breathe deeply, Tim. Let your cares melt away.”

McGee stared up at Abby. “Abby, what’s going on? I’m getting a real sense of déjà vu here.”

“Oh, Timmy! I don’t want you to feel bad about Gibbs and Tony! You’ll get over which ever of them it is you have a crush on, and you’ll find the right guy! Or girl! I guess you’re bisexual, huh?”

McGee stared at her, jaw dropped. Strange noises started coming out of his mouth. Abby just smiled encouragingly at him. “You can talk to me, McGee!” She grabbed her chair, scooted it closer to him, and sat down.

Coherent words finally emerged. “I don’t have a crush on Tony or Gibbs, Abby! Why would you think that?!”

Abby pondered him for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” McGee spluttered.

“Oh. Then why did you get so mad at Ziva when she figured out that they’re together?”

McGee stared at her; his face fell. “Ziva was right?”

“Yeah, she was. Is. It’s only just happened, though. They’re trying to figure it out, which isn’t easy since they aren’t gay. But soul mates don’t have gender requirements, you know.”

“Soul mates? You really think they’re soul mates?”

Abby nodded. “You don’t? C’mon, Tim, they always have that strange connection; you even saw it when Tony was Afloat and they were talking in MTAC. You told me about that. But Timmy, if you don’t have an issue of unrequited love, why did you get so upset this morning? You weren’t bothered by the idea when we were discussing it with Ziva and Jimmy… you even placed a bet in the pool. Which, by the way, I won!”

McGee shot her a look. “Prove it.”

Abby shot him a look back. “Ask Gibbs.”

McGee paled a bit. “Yeah, right. I can just see that conversation.”

“C’mon, Tim. Explain.”

McGee sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I wasn’t upset about the pool because I didn’t think there was any basis to it. Thought we were just joking around, you know?”

“Okay.” Abby’s brow furrowed. “But why does it bother you so much?”

McGee shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “I just… I don’t want the team to be affected by this. I don’t want anything to change.”

“Has it yet?”

“Not really. But can you imagine Gibbs if they have a falling out? Or Tony if he gets his feelings hurt?”

“If any of these things happen, we as their friends will be there to support them and get them back on track. This could be the romance of the century, Tim! We’re not going to let them mess up.”

McGee shook his head. “It’s not just that, Abby.” He stopped, and his face turned a bit red. Abby reached out and put her fingers under his chin, tilting his head up so he was looking at her.

“Then what?”

McGee shifted uncomfortably. “Then they aren’t who I thought they were!”

Abby frowned. “I don’t get it. Who did you think they were? They’re still Gibbs and Tony. Just maybe now they’re GibbsandTony.” The way she said it, it was one word. “I guess they could be Jony. No, that’s weird. Tethro? Eww. LeNozzo? That’s got possibilities. Tibbs? I kind of like that one,” she mused.

“Abby…”

“Sorry, refocusing! Speak to me, Timmy!”

McGee sighed. “It’s just… “ He paused, obviously groping for the right words. “Tony… he’s the player, the good-looking guy who always gets the girl. I’m… well, I’m not that. And even though most of the time I think Tony’s dating behavior is juvenile, I kind of admire him for it too.”

Abby’s eyes lit with understanding. “You underestimate yourself, Tim. By a lot. And you overestimate him a bit. But… you’re saying it’s like he’s your big brother? Or your best friend in high school, and some of the glory rubs off on you?”

“I guess.” McGee rubbed the back of his head. “Sounds stupid when you put it that way.”

“No, it really doesn’t. I can see that. So if Tony’s in love with Gibbs, the guy you looked up to for his sexual prowess isn’t really that guy?”

McGee stared at Abby. “They’re in _love_?!”

“What, you don’t think so? Wouldn’t they have to be, to get even this far if they aren’t actually gay?”

McGee exhaled noisily. “I don’t know, Abby! This isn’t exactly in my frame of reference.”

“Okay. So you don’t like the idea of Tony falling for Gibbs because you have a serious case of hero worship?”

“That makes me sound ridiculous, Abby.”

“No, it just makes you sound human. We’re all social primates, and we all need someone to look up to at times. You think Tony doesn’t look up to Gibbs?”

McGee thought about it. “No, you’re right. He definitely does.”

“Yeah. So you’re normal, Timmy. What about Gibbs? Do you have an issue with him being into Tony?”

McGee was silent, looking at the floor for a while. Finally, he spoke. “It’s different. Gibbs is… I don’t know, Abby, sometimes he’s that mythical figure, like Superman or the Lone Ranger. You know, truth, justice and the American way. He’s got these rules, and we follow them or get our heads slapped. And now he’s going to break the rules, or at least one major one… and we don’t get to slap him, do we?”

Abby giggled. “Well, you could try!”

McGee gave her a half smile. “Yeah, right. Only person I can see trying it and getting away with it is Ducky.”

Abby grinned. “I bet Tony could, too!”

McGee shook his head. “Maybe.” He looked back down at the floor.

Abby looked thoughtfully at McGee. “There’s more to it, isn’t there?”

McGee sighed again. “Yeah, but I’m not sure how to put it without sounding petty or jealous. And I’m not… I’m not jealous, I don’t want to be in a relationship with either one of them.”

“Not a romantic one, maybe. But you do value Tony’s friendship… as much as he’s picked on you in the past, he’s also been there for you. Tons of times. He’s got your back… and so does Gibbs. Are you afraid you’ll lose that?”

McGee nodded. “Yeah.” He said it in a small voice, almost a whisper.

“Oh, Timmy!” Abby scooted her chair forward and hugged him. “Timmy, you’re an important part of this family we have at NCIS. If I know both Tony and Gibbs, they don’t want this to affect the team, and they’ll do everything they can not to let it. I think you should talk to Tony about this when you can, when they let us all know for sure what’s going on.”

McGee shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll think about it.” He looked at Abby and smiled. “Thanks, Abs. I do feel better. Not completely okay with the idea, but I’m not so angry anymore.”

“That’s my boy!”

McGee stood and walked to Abby’s desk to grab his jacket. “I should get back to work… and I guess I should apologize to Ziva too, huh.”

Abby nodded. “She’d appreciate that. And she’ll be happy to know that things will be okay. Just hold off until you’re sure she’s already dealt with Larry.”

“Larry? You mean, Johnson, in Legal?”

“Uh huh.”

“She found out about ‘Tiva,’ didn’t she.”

“Oh, yeah.”

 **Tony and Jethro**

Gibbs woke slowly, blinking his eyes open and rubbing his face. Stretching a bit, he looked over at the couch to find Tony still lying down as he had been earlier, only now he was awake and watching Gibbs.

“Hey,” Gibbs said softly.

Tony continued to stare for a moment, then responded in kind. “Hey yourself.”

Gibbs ran his hand through his hair, then leaned forward in the recliner. “How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?”

Tony took a deep breath, and sat up slowly. He reached up and rubbed the back of his head, glancing around the room. “Abby gone?

“Yeah, she left when I got here –“ Gibbs checked his watch. “- which was a few hours ago.” He was a bit surprised that he’d slept that long. He looked at Tony again. “You hungry?”

Tony’s eyes lost focus a bit as he evaluated his stomach. “I guess I could eat something. Wanna order in? There’s an Italian place that delivers, not too far from here. I’ve got the menu in the kitchen.” Tony got up, gesturing to Gibbs to stay where he was, then headed into the kitchen.

Gibbs sat back in his chair, huffing out a breath. Tony was acting a bit subdued, and it was setting off alarm bells in Gibbs’ gut. At least Tony hadn’t asked him to leave… but he’d not acted thrilled to see him, either. Gibbs knew he hadn’t done anything wrong, at least not since last night. There was a bunch of things he’d done wrong a few years ago, though. He needed to fix that. He fought the urge to get up and follow Tony into the kitchen… Tony’d basically asked him to stay put, so he would. He wasn’t going to push too hard, but he wasn’t going to leave it alone, either.

Tony came back in, menu in one hand, cell phone in the other. He walked over to Gibbs and gave him the menu. Gibbs nodded his thanks and perused the menu for a bit. He looked up at Tony, who had an inquiring look on his face. _Still too quiet_ , Gibbs thought. “Chicken marsala, side of pasta, and something green in case Ducky asks later. You got beer?”

Tony nodded, sat back on the couch, and punched in the numbers on his cell. He placed the order, chicken parmesan for himself, also with a side of pasta and green things, and hung up, putting the phone down on the coffee table. He glanced up at Gibbs. “Gonna be about forty-five minutes.”

Gibbs shrugged. “No problem.”

Both men were silent for a moment… then both started talking at once.

“Tony, I –“

“I didn’t mean –“

Silence again, although this time they were both smiling a little.

Gibbs sighed. “McGee and Ziva read me in on the case. They tracked the killer to a coastal town in Louisiana, forwarded the information on to NCISRA in New Orleans. They’ll handle it from there.”

Tony smiled. “That’s a great job they did. Good for them. Either of them upset they didn’t get to make the collar?”

Gibbs frowned. “McGee was, I think. Wouldn’t look at me after I gave the order.”

Tony sighed. “He’ll get over it.”

Gibbs shifted in his chair. “When they went over their findings with me… gotta admit, that picture of the drowning victim wasn’t easy to look at.” Tony shot him a look. Gibbs looked back, then continued. “Worse was what came next, though.”

Tony sat up straighter and shot Gibbs a concerned look. “Not… not kids?”

Gibbs shook his head. “No, nothing like that. Next picture of was of a burned out car, burned corpse in the driver’s seat.” Gibbs cleared his throat. “Reminded me of when your car got blown up, and we thought you were in it.” One corner of his mouth quirked up a bit, as he remembered something. “Abby and McGee wouldn’t believe you were dead.”

“Did you?” Tony asked.

“Hard not to. Had no reason not to think you were in it. Wanted to reassure them, but I really couldn’t.” Gibbs couldn’t believe his voice caught a little on that last word. He cleared his throat again. “You have no idea –“ He had to pause for a second, get himself under control. “- no idea how relieved I was when Ducky said it wasn’t you. Never been so happy that your lungs are scarred from the plague.”

Tony was staring at Gibbs, eyes wide, not sure what to say. Gibbs looked him in the eyes.

“So… I know how you felt, coming after me in that river, and I knew when I pushed Maddie to you that I was going to die. I didn’t want to… didn’t want to leave the team, didn’t want to leave you. But Maddie… she was Kelly’s friend, Tony. By getting her safe, I was making up in some small way for not saving my own little girl.” Gibbs felt the tears welling up in his eyes, fought them down. If he was going to indulge in them, it wouldn’t be now. This wasn’t about him, it was about Tony, maybe about the two of them together. He looked away, off to the side, hiding some of his emotions while forcing himself to keep going.

“Tony… I know it wasn’t fair to ask you to let me die. I also know we should have talked about it, and I know the fact that we didn’t is part of why you reacted the way you did today.” He made himself look in Tony’s direction. “And I’m sorry for all of that.”

Tony’s face showed such incredulous amazement that Gibbs was hard pressed not to laugh. “Yeah, I know. More than you’ve ever heard me say, and emotional to boot. I promise I haven’t been possessed by aliens or pods or whatever the hell is going through your mind.”

Tony shook his head. “I think I’m speechless, Boss.”

Gibbs cocked his head to one side. “Boss? Thought maybe we were past that, Tony… off the job.”

Tony sighed. “Can I ask you a question?”

Gibbs nodded.

Tony drummed his fingers on his thighs for a moment. “I think… I think that maybe we shouldn’t get past that. Maybe. It depends.”

Gibbs tried not to react too strongly. “On what?” he asked.

Tony looked seriously at him. “On your answer to the question.”

“So ask.”

“Gibbs… Jethro. Can you promise to keep me, to keep the team in the know in the future? I get that if Vance or SecNav orders you to keep quiet, you have to, but if it’s up to you, will you promise that? If we’re going to get involved, pursue this soul mates thing… I can’t be with you and worry that you won’t let me be on your six. I get that you want to keep us safe sometimes, but if you’re going to do that again, I can’t get in any deeper with you. It’ll break me, Jethro. Much as I… care, about you, I can’t let that happen.”

Gibbs looked at Tony. “I can’t always take you with me as backup. You’re my senior field agent, my second in command. There’s gonna be times I need you in charge somewhere else. You need to continue working with Ziva and McGee as well.”

Tony nodded. “I get that. I’m not asking you to change our roles in the team, and I’m not asking you to brief me on every single decision you make. What I am asking is that you don’t go play superhero by yourself anymore, and that you at least let me know what’s going on if we ever have another situation like with Lee. Like I said, if the higher ups demand your silence, I know you have to give it. But if it’s up to you… I need to know you trust me enough, and that you’ll give me the chance to do my job. You want to play Caped Avenger, at least let me be the sidekick.”

Gibbs straightened up. “I trust you, Tony. I’ve always trusted you. But no way in hell am I wearing a cape.” Gibbs watched Tony open his mouth, saw the little gleam that appeared in his eyes. “Or spandex,” he growled.

“Damn.” Tony shook his head in mock disappointment. Then he turned serious and stretched out his arm, extending his hand for Gibbs to shake. “We have a deal, Gibbs?”

Gibbs met Tony’s eyes, then reached out and clasped his hand. “We do, DiNozzo.” The two men shook hands firmly. Tony was grinning, and Gibbs smiled. _Crisis averted._

Tony stood, still grasping Gibbs’ hand, pulled the other man up with him, and then into a hug. Tony hung on tight, burying his face in Gibbs neck. Gibbs steadied himself and returned the hug, resting his forehead on Tony’s shoulder for a moment. He felt Tony take a deep breath, then two. Then Tony raised his head, pressed a quick kiss to Gibbs’ hair, and stepped back. Gibbs let him go, even though he didn’t particularly want to. He suddenly felt a need for reassurance. “So we’re good, Tony? Or are you going to keep calling me ‘Boss’ outside of work?”

Tony grinned. “I think we can keep ‘Boss’ out of our private life. Unless, of course, you want to play some time…” Tony raised his eyebrows at Gibbs and shot him a wicked grin.

Gibbs chuckled and shook his head. “We’ll see, Tony.”

Tony’s grin widened even more, and he opened his mouth to say something, when the doorbell rang. He threw a mock pout in Gibbs’ direction. “Saved by the bell, Jeth. We’ll have to save that discussion for later.” Gibbs rolled his eyes.

Tony paid for the food and brought it over to the couch. Gibbs went to the kitchen to grab two beers and the necessary utensils. Both men sat on the couch, legs touching, and ate. The food was good, and by the time they finished Gibbs was feeling mellow and relaxed. Tony got up to clean up, motioning to Gibbs to stay put again.

Tony carried everything into the kitchen. He was a bit surprised that the conversation had gone as smoothly as it had. He remembered Abby’s comment that soul mates just click, and thought perhaps she was right, maybe they really did have that kind of connection. As he cleaned up, he thought hard about what he wanted to do now. He wanted to spend more time with Gibbs, get to know the man better outside of work. He thought maybe he’d gotten a glimpse of the Gibbs that women were so attracted to. There had to be more than the work-obsessed bastard, ‘cause otherwise he’d have had to have gotten those women to marry him at gunpoint. He laughed to himself; he could actually picture that.

“What’s so funny?”

Tony turned to see Gibbs walking in to the kitchen. “Just thinking that I’ve got a better understanding of how you got four women to marry you.”

Gibbs gave Tony a skeptical look. “Looking to be spouse number five, DiNozzo?”

Tony batted his eyelashes at Gibbs. “Don’t you think that’s rushing it a bit, Gibbs?”

“Definitely. And for the record, I only really tried to get one of them to marry me. The other three kind of got me to marry them.”

Tony leaned back against the kitchen counter. “Why’d you go along with them?”

Gibbs shrugged. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with the direction of the conversation, but he was determined to be more open with Tony. “I guess I was trying to replace Shannon. And I felt like I didn’t have to try so hard once I was married, probably because with Shannon it was so easy. Which may possibly explain why all three of ‘em divorced me.”

“Ya think, Gibbs?” Tony grinned when Gibbs shot him a bit of a glare.

Clean up was done, so Tony led the way back to the living room. It wasn’t too late, only a little after nine in the evening, but he was feeling pretty beat. It had been an emotional day.

“What’s the plan for the weekend? We’re on rotation, right?” Tony asked, as they both settled back on to the couch. He reached for the remote and turned to ESPN.

Gibbs shook his head. “Nope, Vance gave us the weekend off. We have until Monday to get a better handle on things.”

Tony turned to look at Gibbs. “You wanna spend the whole weekend together?” He sounded a little surprised.

Gibbs looked carefully at Tony. “Well, yeah, I was hoping to. We can’t get things figured out if we don’t spend the time together. Besides, I’m under orders from Abby not to go back to work until we’ve got it all worked out.”

Tony laughed. “I’ll have to thank her. So what do you want to do?”

Gibbs raised his eyebrows at Tony, and smirked. Tony grinned back. “You didn’t happen to bring those books Abby gave you, did you?”

Gibbs laughed. “No, Tony, I didn’t. We’ll just have to figure some stuff out on our own, at least tonight.” That said, Gibbs leaned forward, cupped his hand behind Tony’s head, and kissed him gently on the lips. Tony moved closer to Gibbs, one arm lifting to put a hand on the back of the older man’s head, the other moving to encircle his waist. They kissed for a while, tongues coming into play now and then. Gibbs ran his fingers through Tony’s hair while his lips slid over Tony’s. Tony’s hand moved from Gibbs’ waist up his side, along his back, and back down to his waist, caressing the other man. The kisses continued, but didn’t get overly passionate. Tonight was about reaffirming their closeness, acknowledging that they were going to pursue this relationship, committing to figuring it out. Both men knew that within a few minutes, and both were comfortable with it. That they were once again so in tune with each other was yet more evidence to both of them that this was real.

Gibbs’ arms encircled Tony’s torso, caressing smoothly with the intent just to touch, not to progress. He ran his hands up to the back of Tony’s head, down along his neck, tracing his spine, separating them to move along either side of his back, up his sides to his shoulders, then repeating the process all over again. It felt like a light massage, and Tony thought pretty soon he’d be purring like a cat if Gibbs kept that up. His own hands kept a consistently light pressure on Gibbs, also caressing, moving slowly and sensuously, but again without intent to move things along. He kept massaging the back of Gibbs’ head with one hand, returning the favor. Both men felt the physical strength in the other, and for both it was new and different.

The kisses slowed and stopped. Jethro and Tony pulled back from each other a bit, each still holding on to the other. Jethro’s eyes moved over Tony’s face, and he smiled. “That was really, really nice, Tony.”

Tony nodded and squeezed Gibbs’ neck. “Yeah.” Tony shifted forward and let his head drop down to Jethro’s shoulder, resting there. Jethro adjusted his hold on Tony to a comfortable hug, not too tight or too loose, just holding him. Tony thought that after all the emotional upheaval of the day, this was perfect.

“Hey, Jeth?” Tony asked, his voice a bit muffled by Gibbs’ shirt.

“Yeah, Tony?”

“Would you… I’d like you to share the bed with me tonight. Just to sleep, that’s all. I just… after today, I just want to stay close to you.” Tony tensed just a little, waiting for a response, hoping he wasn’t pushing too far.

“Sounds like a great idea to me.” Tony could hear the smile in Jethro’s voice.

Tony grinned, and pulled Jethro into a tighter hug. After a few minutes, the two men separated, smiling at each other. Jethro reached out and ruffled Tony’s hair affectionately. Tony pouted at him.

“What?”

“Your hair’s too short to ruffle effectively.”

Jethro laughed. “It’s easier to deal with this way. You want me to grow it out, like it was when I came back from Mexico?”

“Nah, then I wouldn’t be able to tease you about the bad haircut anymore.”

Jethro rolled his eyes good naturedly. “Remember how Kate used to give me so much grief about my hair?”

Tony laughed. “I wonder what she’d say if she knew how our relationship was changing?”

Jethro shook his head, not sure how Kate would have reacted. He looked over at Tony, who was in the middle of a huge yawn.

“That’s it… bedtime for you.”

Tony looked askance at him. “It’s early,” he said.

Jethro shrugged. “I could use the sleep. So could you.”

Tony nodded, reached for the remote, and shut off the tv. Jethro stood and held his hand out to Tony, helping him up to his feet. Tony led the way to the bedroom, where both men stripped down to their boxers and took turns in the bathroom. Tony was the first one to get under the covers, and he watched Jethro as he approached the bed. He looked for any hesitation on the part of the older man, but there was none. Jethro slid under the covers and settled in. “Wow,” he said, “these are really soft sheets.”

Tony smirked. “I don’t shop at Sears.”

Jethro shot him a mock glare. “I bet Sears sells soft sheets.”

“Yeah, but you won’t pay the extra money for them.”

Jethro snorted. “You can buy me sheets for Christmas.”

“It’s May, Jeth. You’re either getting an early present or we’re staying here at night until December.”

Jethro reached over and cuffed Tony lightly on the top of his head. He was immediately cuffed back.

Tony reached over and turned out the light; the room went dark. Jethro felt him shift his body over, turning on his side. Jethro was still on his back; a few seconds later, Tony’s arm was laid across Jethro’s chest.

“This okay?” Tony asked quietly.

“Just fine. Sleep well, Tony.”

“You too.”

They were both asleep within minutes.


	7. The Weekend Together - Part One

**Very Early Saturday Morning**

Tony became sort of conscious sometime in the middle of the night, hot, sweaty, and hard. He could feel a heavy body draped over his own. _Big girl_ , he thought muzzily. _Don’t remember picking her up._ He brought his right hand up to caress her back; the pressure in his groin was making him think that another go round was a great idea. She didn’t wake, burrowing her face into his shoulder. He shifted his legs around hers – _hairy legs? Must have been REALLY drunk._ – bringing his hard cock against her thigh and pressing. He moaned lightly at the feel. But something was off… _boxers??_ _Why am I wearing boxers?_ He slid his hand down her back… _she’s wearing boxers?! Must be kinky_ … he turned his head to kiss her face… _stubble?! What the hell?!_ Now wide awake, he realized with a start that it was Jethro who was draped over him. Tony barely stopped the fit of hysterical laughter that threatened when he realized he’d thought Jethro was just another – _female_ – one night stand.

Tony finally managed to get himself under control. As he relaxed, he realized something… his erection hadn’t flagged at all; in fact, if anything he’d gotten harder and the pressure more urgent. _Guess that answers that question_ , he thought. _Not having any problem getting it up and keeping it up for Jeth._ Now he had a different problem, though… Jethro’s leg was tangled in between his own, and his cock was still trapped against the man’s muscular thigh. The lack of soft curves wasn’t bothering Tony in the least. _I’m not gay, I might not even really be bi, but obviously my sexual orientation is now Gibbs-centric_. Be that as it may, Tony had no intention of molesting his boss… friend… _lover?_... not after he’d invited him into his bed with the assurance that it was just to sleep. He shifted his weight away from the man, intending to disentangle their limbs and put a safe distance between his groin and any part of Jethro’s anatomy.

As Tony started to disengage, Jethro grumbled in his sleep and reached out with his right arm, grabbing Tony’s side and pulling him closer. _Damn, he’s got a grip of iron!_ Tony tried once more to shift away, but there was no way he’d break that hold without waking Jethro, and Tony wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to face Jethro in bed, complete with major hard-on. Tony sighed quietly. _Always figured he was a possessive bastard._ Tony tried valiantly to ignore his cock, which apparently had no sense of morality whatsoever and was all for getting it on regardless of whatever Tony might have said.

Tony started some meditation techniques he’d learned and put to good use when undercover; they’d helped in the past when nerves threatened to take over and put him at risk. They helped now too; after a few minutes he found it much easier to ignore his body’s demands and focused instead on the feel of Jethro draped over him like a human blanket. It occurred to Tony that he didn’t feel trapped or smothered. He felt safe, at peace… he wondered if that was one of the ways to recognize his soul mate.

That got him thinking about a few nights ago, when he’d let the term slip while talking with Gibbs in his basement. He’d never consciously thought of Gibbs that way before. He’d admired the man, wanted in some ways to be like him, needed his approval, tried to get it by almost any means necessary. A day that he didn’t spend some time with Gibbs was an empty day. He’d known that before Mexico, before Jenny offered him his own team in Spain, and that was the real reason why he didn’t take it. He couldn’t imagine being away from Gibbs, possibly never seeing the man again, or if he did, having it be the meaningless interaction between two people who used to depend on each other but were now only casual acquaintances. He took his job of being on Gibbs’ six seriously, and couldn’t imagine leaving that role to someone else. And then, over the past few years, Gibbs had become more than a mentor or a job… he’d become the person Tony orbited. Tony hadn’t really noticed it before, but thinking about it now, he realized that the orbit wasn’t one-sided. At some point, Gibbs had started orbiting Tony. For whatever reason, somehow, he’d become as important to Gibbs as Gibbs was to him. Gibbs wasn’t even Gibbs to Tony anymore, he was Jethro, and that was perhaps the strangest and most wondrous thing about all this.

The whole time Tony’d been thinking, he’d also been absent-mindedly stroking Jethro’s back. The consequence had been, of course, that Jethro had woken up. Unlike Tony, he’d known immediately who his bedmate was. He didn’t let Tony know he was awake, though… he wanted to see what Tony would do, now that Jethro was lying on him like this. He refused to feel bad about something he’d done in his sleep; it wasn’t as if he’d groped Tony, after all. He could feel Tony’s hard cock pressed firmly against his thigh, and as he thought about that his own started to twitch and respond in kind. Pretending to still be asleep, he shifted his weight so that his own cock was now pressing up against Tony’s leg… _only fair, after all._ Tony reacted instinctively by moving his leg up against Jethro’s groin, and Jethro couldn’t help the small sound that escaped in reaction to the jolt of pleasure that ran through him.

Tony was a little startled by the realization that Jethro was not only awake but also hard. He immediately stopped his repetitive stroking of Jethro’s back and attempted to pull away, muttering an apology. Jethro tightened his hold on Tony’s side, stopping his movement. “Don’t,” he said, voice rough from sleep. “Feels good.”

Tony couldn’t help but agree. “Yeah.”

The two men just lay there like that, pressed against each other. Tony resumed stroking Jethro’s back, and Jethro slid his own hand over Tony’s side, up his chest, and into his hair, caressing gently. They stayed like that for several minutes, enjoying the feel and the closeness. Neither man had felt like this in a very long time... if ever, in Tony’s case. Eyes closed, Tony leaned his head into the caresses Jethro was giving him, emitting a low hum of contentment. Jethro responded by shifting his weight again, moving his torso so he was lying less on top of Tony and more next to him. There was a subtle shift to the movement of Tony’s hand on Jethro’s back; it became less repetitive, slower, more sensual. Jethro sighed and pressed even more firmly against Tony. His leg inadvertently rubbed against Tony’s cock as he moved, and Tony drew in a breath sharply. “Jeth…”

Jethro opened his eyes and raised his head, looking at Tony. There was enough light coming in through the bedroom windows; he could see the wide-eyed and slightly vulnerable look on Tony’s face. “Tony,” he whispered, leaning in and brushing a light kiss over his lips. He pulled back, looked Tony in the eyes, hesitated just for a moment, then said, “Wanna follow through a bit? Not… not all the way, just to see… if maybe this can work?”

Tony stared at Jethro, then nodded slowly. Jethro smiled, leaned in and kissed Tony again, this time running the tip of his tongue along Tony’s lower lip while sliding his own lips against the younger man’s. He shifted his body back to where he had been before, half lying on Tony, half next to him, moving one arm to steady himself, using the opposite hand to strengthen his grip on Tony’s hair, then shifted his leg for better leverage over Tony’s groin, and started kissing in earnest. His tongue explored Tony’s mouth, kissing him deeply. He kept his body still, waiting for Tony to respond.

It took only a few seconds; Tony’s arms moved to encircle Jethro’s torso, gripping him firmly. He shifted one of his own legs around the leg Jethro had placed over his groin, holding him firmly in place and increasing the pressure. Tony started to return the kisses with serious intent, moving one hand to the back of Jethro’s head.

With that sort of encouragement, Jethro thought it was safe to start moving. He moved his hips just a bit, pressing and releasing against Tony’s leg, not quite thrusting, but increasing the pressure against his own cock. This also had the effect of moving his leg trapped against Tony’s groin, causing a deep moan to escape Tony’s mouth as Jethro’s leg rubbed against the younger man’s hardness. They continued like that for several minutes, each man starting to thrust against the other, both clearly becoming more aroused but remaining somewhat tentative all the same.

Jethro shifted his weight off of Tony, leaning back a bit, letting the other man move more freely. Tony’s grip on the back of Jethro’s head increased in strength, holding the other man in place, while Tony kissed Jethro more passionately, his own tongue now returning the favor of exploration. Jethro turned a bit more onto his side, and Tony read him correctly, surging up against him, rolling Jethro onto his back, covering the older man with his own body, Tony’s legs on either side of Jethro’s, their cocks now pushed together. The feel of that made Tony’s back arch and his head lift, the words “oh, god” escaping his mouth. Jethro’s hips canted up, pushing harder into Tony, letting loose a groan that started deep in his chest. Tony thrust harder against Jethro, dropped his head to Jethro’s neck and lost control, biting his neck with enough force to cause pain.

Jethro yelped in surprise; Tony froze, then threw himself off of him, apologies flying out of his mouth. Jethro’s hand flew up to his neck, and he stared at Tony. The stream of apologetic phrases died out, and Tony stared back, worried that he’d ruined everything. Then Jethro’s head fell back against the pillow, and he started laughing – in fact, he was practically giggling. Tony’s jaw dropped. He stared at Jethro, who couldn’t seem to stop. Tony’s lips started to twitch, and the next thing he knew, he was laughing too.

It took a little while, but Jethro calmed down, wiping his eyes, and grinning at Tony. Tony quieted a bit, looked at Jethro, then snorted with laughter again, the words “you _yelped_ ,” barely comprehensible. Jethro, still grinning, reached out and smacked Tony on the head, which only served to make him laugh harder. Tony finally had to roll away from Jethro, who was now propped up on bent arms, watching him. Not looking at Jethro helped, and Tony was able to get his breathing under control. He turned back to face Jethro. “And you _giggled_. The infamous bastard Leroy Jethro Gibbs _yelped and giggled_. God, I wish I had that on video.”

Jethro pushed himself up into a sitting position, then rubbed his neck ruefully. “You surprised me. Next time I’ll have a very different reaction.”

Tony rolled over, switched on the lamp sitting on the bedside table, then sat up and turned to face Jethro. “Let me see.” Jethro lowered his hand and tilted his head, exposing the side of his neck for Tony to inspect. Tony reached out and traced the angry-looking red marks. “Wow. I’m sorry, Jeth. I got kind of carried away.”

Jethro reached out and tousled Tony’s hair. “S’alright, Tony. Do I need to put something on it?”

Tony shook his head. “Nah. You might want to consider wearing a turtleneck to work on Monday, though.”

Jethro looked at him incredulously. “In May?! You better hope it fades by then!”

Tony gave Jethro a wicked smile and waggled his eyebrows. “Or I could just reinforce it later…”

Jethro’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll give you a matching set,” he warned.

Tony’s grin widened. “Is that a promise?”

Jethro raised his eyebrows. “You want it to be?”

Tony’s smile faded, and he turned serious. “What I really want is to know if that worked as well for you as it did for me. Before I mauled you, I mean.”

Jethro was surprised at Tony’s sudden insecurity. “You couldn’t tell?” He reached out to cup the back of Tony’s neck, pulling him in for a warm kiss. Releasing Tony and looking into his eyes, Jethro said quietly, “That definitely worked for me. Much more and my boxers would have been soaked.”

Tony grinned. “Mine too.”

They stared at each other for a moment. “So now we know,” Jethro said.

“We sure do,” Tony agreed. “You surprised?”

“I guess I could be if I thought about it enough… reminded myself that you’re a guy, that sort of thing. But it’s all felt right, ever since we had that conversation in the basement. Like I said before, Tony… it’s you.”

Tony smiled happily. “I feel the same about you, Jeth.”

“Good.”

Tony cleared his throat and made a slight gesture vaguely in the direction of Jethro’s groin. “You okay?”

Jethro smirked and nodded. “Yeah. Surprised me right out of it. Not gone all the way down, but not feeling the need so strongly.”

Tony nodded. “Me too.”

Jethro hesitated. “Okay if we wait until another time to get back to it? Don’t want to mess up by rushing things. Didn’t expect…” Jethro’s voice trailed off, not entirely sure of how to describe the whole encounter.

Tony smiled warmly. “It’s fine, Jeth. I want this to work too, so slowing back down is alright by me.”

Jethro sighed. “Not sure I could go back to sleep right away.”

“Me either,” Tony agreed. Pause. “Wanna watch a movie?”

Jethro chuckled. “Sure. What do you have in mind?”

“Ever seen Young Frankenstein?”

 **Later Saturday Morning**

Tony woke up slowly. It had to be mid to late morning, judging by the light. He and Jethro had gotten up, thrown on t-shirts and sweats, and moved to the living room, sharing the couch to watch the movie. Jethro had seemed to enjoy it; at least he’d laughed at some of the lines, although he’d seemed a bit impatient when Dr. Frankensteen and the Monster were singing ‘Putting On The Ritz.’ They’d both been tired again by the time the movie ended, and they’d gone back to bed. Tony had offered to take the couch, and gotten head-smacked for it. They’d apparently fallen asleep pretty quickly; Tony had no memory of anything else happening, and now he was alone.

He stretched, then lay still, looking up at the ceiling. Their encounter last night had been… hot, intense, and way beyond what Tony had expected. Between the websites and the book, he’d figured on things being awkward and fumbling, given that neither man had any experience with another guy. Despite having enjoyed kissing Jethro, he’d really thought neither of them would be able to sustain an erection, much less get as close to climaxing as they apparently both had. To his surprise, he wasn’t questioning his sexuality or his identity as much as questioning what he’d always assumed about relationships in general.

The bedroom door swung open, and Jethro leaned in, looking at him around the edge of the door. “Hey, you’re up. Want breakfast?”

Tony smiled. “When have you ever known me not to be ready to eat? Although I have to warn you, I don’t think there’s all that much in the kitchen, besides leftovers.”

Jethro smirked. “Yeah, I noticed. Went shopping after I got up, was about to make omelets.”

Tony sat up. “Seriously?”

“Well, yeah, DiNozzo, wasn’t planning on starving.”

“Well, okay, Gibbs, so feed me already!”

Jethro rolled his eyes and disappeared from the door. Tony grinned, then got up and hit the bathroom.

A few minutes later he walked into the kitchen to see Jethro setting the table. Orange juice was sitting in glasses on the table, and Tony could smell eggs, cheese, bacon, onions… he sat down, mouth watering. Jethro put a large omelet on his plate, then served himself. Tony grabbed the morning paper from one side of the table – Jethro must have brought it in – and passed the front section over while grabbing the sports for himself. He started to eat while looking at the headlines. “This is good, Jeth.”

All he got in return was a grunt of acknowledgment. He glanced up to see Jethro with his glasses on, reading and eating. Tony stared at the older man for a minute… there was something from yesterday…

Jethro glanced over at him, and Tony continued to stare. “What?!”

It clicked. “How were you able to read the menu last night without your glasses?”

A smirk and a shrug. “What Italian restaurant doesn’t have chicken marsala on the menu?”

Tony laughed.

They finished eating, cleaned up in the kitchen, then moved to the living room, each with sections of the paper. Tony stretched out on the couch, while Jethro sat in the recliner. To Tony’s mild shock, Jethro sat slumped against one arm of the chair, with one leg slung up over the other arm, the other foot resting on the floor. Tony shook his head; Jethro sure was full of surprises. He surreptitiously reached for his cell phone, palming it off the coffee table. Moving slowly and quietly, he flipped it open and was able to sneak a picture. Just as he was about to set the phone back down, it started vibrating. He jumped a bit, surprised out of his stealth. Jethro looked up, peering at Tony over the top of his glasses, smirking at him. _Annoying bastard - he knew exactly what I was doing_ , Tony thought. He flipped the phone open again, reading the text he’d just received: b ready rule 12. It was from Abby.

He texted back: who?

Reply: ziva tim

Answer: thnx

Reply: need proof bet

Answer: ask gibbs

Reply: meanie

Tony grinned as he set the phone back on the table. He turned back to the paper, but found it hard to focus. He looked up to see Jethro watching him.

“Is there anything you don’t notice, Jeth?”

All he got in response was a half smile and a raised eyebrow.

Tony sighed. “Abby says hi and she wants proof that we’ve kissed so that she can pocket her winnings. Ziva and Tim know something, and Abs warned us to be ready to deal with rule 12 on Monday. I know Abby didn’t spill the beans, so which one do you think figured it out?”

Jethro turned thoughtful. “Didn’t expect either one to catch on for a while yet,” he admitted. “I’d wanted more time before telling them.”

Tony nodded. “Can’t change it now, though. Maybe we should get some intel? I’m not sure I want to walk in blind on Monday.”

Tony watched Jethro’s expression close up. He knew the man wouldn’t like his idea much; he also knew this was one of those things that had to change if they were going to make this work. Perhaps it was best to ease him into it, though.

“We’ll handle it on Monday,” Jethro said.

Tony sighed, nodded and turned his attention back to the paper.


	8. The Weekend Together - Part Two

**Early Saturday Afternoon**

Gibbs pretended to read his sections of the paper. He was really watching Tony. The younger man was still sprawled out on the couch, alternating between reading the paper and watching Sports Center on ESPN; he’d turned the tv on a few minutes ago.

Gibbs wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about what happened last night. He was surprised at how easy it was; he’d expected a lot more awkwardness. So yeah… now they knew. He and Tony could be together sexually, and be fine with it. Gibbs had never been attracted to a man before, and didn’t think he ever would be again… it was just Tony. He had no hesitation about the idea of being involved with Tony - he just wasn’t convinced being with Tony was the right thing to do.

 _No, that’s not really it. It’s not about Tony… it’s about everyone else knowing about us._

Gibbs knew he’d have to deal with the team on this… that, or lose Tony, who’d made it clear the team wasn’t to suffer as a result of their new relationship. Even so, Gibbs had put Tony off a few minutes ago, when he’d suggested getting ‘intel’ from Abby about what Tim and Ziva were thinking. He didn’t want to have to think about that, or deal with it at all. What the hell was he going to do about rule 12? _Toss it out? Make me and Tony the exception that proves the rule? ‘Rule 12a… rule 12 doesn’t apply to the team leader, who can do whoever he wants.’_ Ha. _Or this…’in the interest of team bonding, we’ll set up a rotating schedule so everyone dates everyone else.’ I don’t think so._

It was one thing to open up to Ducky; their friendship made that easy enough. Abby was so open herself, and she was so supportive of him; he didn’t want to divulge all his secrets to her, but talking with her made her happy, and he liked making her happy. Tony… Tony was perhaps going to be as important to him as Shannon. If he wanted this to work, he had to let him in… and that didn’t scare him as much as he’d thought it would. But to be so open with Ziva, or McGee, or even Palmer… he just couldn’t see it. And if that many people knew about them… how long would it be until Vance knew? It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his team, but for so many people to keep a secret… _not likely_. And if Vance found out… Tony would likely be Afloat again before the ink dried on the resignation papers Gibbs would sign to keep him close by. _And I would, too_ , Gibbs thought, surprised, gazing at Tony. He guessed that made sense; he’d been telling the truth when he told Tony he’d ‘missed him like crazy’ when Tony had been at sea.

Enough of this. Gibbs wasn’t going to waste their weekend putting himself in a bad mood or ‘borrowing trouble,’ as his father would say. _And what is Dad going to think if he finds out I’m with Tony? Ack. Stop!_

Gibbs tossed the paper onto the coffee table. “Hey.”

Tony looked over from the tv. “What’s up?”

“Wanna go over to the house? I need to get a few things done this weekend… maybe you could help?”

Tony smiled. “Sure. I still need to shower… how about you head on over, I’ll be there as soon as I can?”

Gibbs smiled back. “Sounds good.” He stood, then looked over at Tony, who was picking his sections of the paper up off the floor. “Will you stay over tonight?”

Tony looked up, smiling. “I’d like that.”

Gibbs grinned. “Good.” He walked past Tony, giving him a light tap on the head as he walked past.

Tony laughed. “What was that for, Jeth?!”

“It’s fun.” Gibbs’ eyes sparkled a bit as he looked at Tony, who grinned back at him.

“You do realize I’ll get you back, right?”

“Well, yeah… that’s what makes it fun.” Gibbs headed out of the living room, than hesitated. He turned back to Tony.

“Hey, Tony… call Abby. Get that intel you wanted.”

As he walked to the car, Gibbs thought that opening up to Tony wouldn’t be too difficult if he kept getting smiles like that as a reward.

 **Phone Call**

Tony grabbed the phone as soon as he heard the door shut. This was… unexpected. But Tony wasn’t going to question it. Jethro giving in on this point made him feel so much more optimistic.

Abby picked up right away. “Tony! Is Gibbs still there?”

Tony sat back on the couch. “Nah, he just left to head home. I’m following him as soon as I get my act together.”

“So tell me, tell me! What happened? Are you guys okay?”

“We’re good, Abs. I did what you suggested, and it worked. Better than I’d have hoped it could.”

“Which suggestion? Page 91?”

Tony stifled a laugh. “Abs, even if we had done something like that, I wouldn’t tell you. That’s for us to know and –“

“And for me to fantasize about – I get it! But you can’t blame me for trying to get the low down, Tony! So, no more talk about not getting involved with Gibbs, right?”

Tony smiled. “No, at least not right now. It’s good, Abs. He really let me in.”

“Awe-some. Bossman rocks. And so do you, Tony. But why are you calling me, when you could be with him?”

“Intel, Abs. Need to know what’s up with Ziva and McGee – don’t want to walk in blind.”

He could hear Abby sigh over the phone. “Nutshell… Ziva figured it out from the way you both reacted to the crime scene photos. She said something to Tim, and he kinda flipped out.”

Tony sat up, a sick feeling in his gut. “Why? He doesn’t… he doesn’t have a weird crush on Gibbs, does he?”

Abby laughed, which made him feel a little better. “Nope. And why would it be weird? Is yours weird?”

Tony was quiet for a moment.

“Tony?”

“It’s not just a crush, Abs. You may be right, you know… we just fit.”

He could hear Abby sniffling over the phone. “I’m so happy for you guys. You’re gonna save him, you know.”

That surprised him a bit. “Gibbs needs saving?”

“Oh yeah, he really does. And I can’t think of a better person for the job.”

“Oh. Um, thanks, Abs. But what’s McGee’s problem?”

The pause before Abby answered him was just a hair too long.

“I’m not sure I can say. I’m sorry Tony, but he kinda told me in confidence. Not that he actually said ‘Abby, don’t tell Tony or Gibbs,’ but I sort of feel like I’d be breaking a promise, even though I didn’t actually promise anything, you know? It’s like I never would have said anything to either him or Ziva, but Ziva figured it out, and she asked me directly, and you know I suck at lying. And since she’d already said something to Timmy, I had to do some damage control.”

Tony sighed. “I get it, Abs. Can you at least give me some hints?”

“Hmmm. Okay, here goes. Ziva’s cool with it, as long as it doesn’t mess up the team. She wants an explanation for why it’s okay for you guys to break rule 12, though. Timmy… well, he’s a bit more complicated. He definitely wants that same explanation, but there’s more to it than that. But it’s stuff you’ve got to talk to him about. Just promise me one thing… take him seriously, okay, Tony?”

“I will, Abby. This is too important. Neither Gibbs nor I want to screw up the team.”

“Then it should all be okay.”

“Thanks, Abs. We’ll figure out how to deal with rule 12 by Monday.” _I hope._

“So, Tony-boy… what about that proof I need?”

“What do you want, Abs, a full blown make out session in the middle of the bullpen?”

“Yes! That would be perfect!”

“Bye, Abs.”

“Tony, wait!”

“I’m not taking pictures of Gibbs and me without his consent, Abby!”

“No, not that… got any GSS data for me? You must have some!”

Tony grinned. “I have seen the Grail, Abby, and it was good.”

Abby shrieked into the phone. “Seriously?! Oh My God. That is… that is incredible!! What about the rest of the data points?”

“Abs, there’s no way I’m going to stop and write down numbers every time Gibbs smiles. At this rate, I wouldn’t get anything done.”

“That is soooo fantastic!”

“Bye, Abs.”

“Bye, Tony! Have a fabulous rest of the weekend! At least think about taking some pictures! All I need is one!”

Tony hung up, shaking his head. _We’re gonna have to sweep the house for bugs if Jethro doesn’t start locking his doors more often._

 **Back To The Basement**

Gibbs went shopping on his way home, picking up steak and potatoes to grill, along with some chocolatey thing he thought would appeal to Tony’s sweet tooth. He also got some snack food and something for breakfast the next morning. Once he arrived home and put the food away, Gibbs went upstairs to the bedroom and tossed his overnight kit in the closet. He’d repack it later. Heading back downstairs, he ran through his mental ‘to do’ list, trying to pick out something Tony might actually enjoy doing as well as something he couldn’t actually ruin. Gibbs didn’t think he’d ever seen Tony be handy in any way, so this could be an adventure. He knew Tony had certain specialized skills on the job, but he didn’t think those skills included home repair. _Might give me new things to teach him, if he’s up for it._ He settled on staining the deck out back. He already had the stain and brushes ready to go, and he didn’t think it would bother him too much if the stain wasn’t perfectly even. Tony had already admitted to lousy painting skills, so Gibbs wasn’t about to let him tackle the walls inside.

Gibbs went down to the basement to get what they’d need, pausing when he was about to pass by the drawer where Shannon’s picture lay. He changed direction, ending up in front of the drawer, but hesitating for a moment. Tony would be here soon, and he didn’t want to get lost in memories. It felt wrong, though, not to spend a moment with her picture. Opening the drawer, he pulled the picture out. Looking down at her face, he turned and leaned back against the bench. He traced her face with his fingers, as he’d done countless times before.

“I’m trying, Shan. I’m letting him in. I just hope it can be enough.”

He waited, hoping to hear her voice again, but there was only silence.

 _Am I going to lose her, forget what she sounds like? If I let Tony in, am I shutting her out?_ The fear was part of what had kept him from letting the ex-wives, or Hollis, or anyone else too close in the past. Gibbs felt the familiar panic taking hold inside… he couldn’t do this, couldn’t let her go, not even if it meant losing Tony –

 _I swear, Jeth, you need a good head smack. If I could talk to Tony, I’d tell him to give you a really hard one._

“Shannon…” He whispered her name, barely noticing how his voice caught. “I… what if I forget? What if I start to lose the memories, can’t hear your laughter anymore? What’s left if I do that?”

 _Jethro, you can’t forget. I’m part of you. So is Kelly. We’re always with you, and we always will be. You can’t lose us. There’s room for Tony too. The memories you’ll create with him won’t replace the ones you have of us. And his laughter sounds nothing like mine… I’m sure you can tell them apart._

Gibbs laughed a little at that… Tony’s deep masculine voice versus Shannon’s – no, there was no similarity at all.

“But what if it’s like with the others – if he can’t deal with the fact that you still have a place in my life?”

 _Maybe the others couldn’t deal because you wouldn’t let them. You hid us, Jethro. And when they wanted to try to understand, you wouldn’t explain. Please accept that you won’t hurt me, or Kelly, by letting yourself love someone again, or by letting someone else love you. Maybe you can try sharing us with him, rather than keeping us shut away._

Gibbs felt the tears that were trying to escape. He forced them down, but couldn’t get rid of them entirely. He swiped impatiently at his eyes, brushing them away. “And if I end up chasing him off by trying to share the memories?” 

“Won’t happen, Jethro.”

Gibbs’ head snapped up to see Tony standing in front of him, his own eyes a little red and watery, a serious expression on his face. “How long…” Gibbs let his voice trail off, not sure how to deal with all his defenses being down so unexpectedly, with the fact that he’d been so lost in his own head that he hadn’t heard Tony come down the stairs.

Tony’s eyes searched his face for a moment. “Since you said something about losing your memories of her.” He looked down at the picture in Gibbs’ hands, then back up at Gibbs. Extending his hand, he asked softly, “May I?”

Gibbs hesitated, then placed the picture in Tony’s outstretched hand. Tony looked down at Shannon’s smiling face for a moment, then back up at Gibbs. “She’s beautiful.”

Gibbs nodded. He had no idea what to say. The exes always got upset when they found him down here with her. The first ex had threatened to destroy the picture, and he hadn’t reacted well to that, giving her the remote, icy stare that had broken quite a few suspects in interrogation. She’d filed for divorce not long afterwards. Of them all, Stephanie had been the most understanding. But it hadn’t been enough, or he hadn’t done enough, or something.

Tony held the picture back out to him. He took it, looking down at her again, unable for once in his life to meet Tony’s eyes.

“Hey, Jeth.”

Gibbs took a deep breath, then looked up. The look Tony was giving him was patient and understanding.

“I’m not interested in replacing her. I couldn’t anyway. She gave you things I’ll never be able to. If you want to talk to me about her, and about your daughter, I’d love to hear about them. If you don’t want to share, that’s alright too. I know you have a past, I know about them, and I don’t mind. Hell, I know you’re a bastard, yet I’m here anyway.”

Gibbs smiled at that.

“Come on, Jeth. That had to be, like, a 1.4. You can do better than that.”

Gibbs couldn’t help but smile a little bigger.

“Better. Maybe a 2.8. We’ll work on it.”

Gibbs shook his head as he placed Shannon’s picture back in the drawer, sliding it shut. He settled back against the bench and looked at Tony, who stood there looking back at him.

“Why _are_ you here, Tony?”

Tony stepped back, his eyes widening with surprise. He looked at Gibbs searchingly for a moment, and then his expression cleared.

“Well, according to you, I’m helping you with stuff you need to get done. According to Abby, I’m saving you.” He grinned at the confused look Gibbs shot his way. “Or I’m here to get clandestine photos of us getting down and dirty, so Abby can get her money and swoon over the idea of two incredibly sexy guys getting it on. Either way, I’m not picky. According to me, I’m here to spend the weekend with my soul mate, so we can figure all this stuff out.” He shot Gibbs an exaggeratedly lecherous look, complete with a small growl. Then he grinned again.

Gibbs recalled all the times he’d been thankful for Tony’s wacky sense of humor defusing a tense situation, and relaxed for the first time since he’d come downstairs. “Good.”

Tony straightened at that. “You mean you’re okay with pictures?”

Gibbs leaned forward to deliver a head smack. Tony’s arm came up and blocked it, then he leaned in and head smacked Gibbs. He danced backwards, hands up in a boxing position, legs jumping around in a parody of a fighter’s moves. “Think you can take me, Boss?”

Gibbs laughed as he watched Tony’s antics, but made no move to go after him. After a few moments, Tony stopped dancing and walked back over to him. “You okay, Jethro?”

Gibbs nodded, looking around the basement. “This room used to be filled with Shannon’s and Kelly’s laughter. We were building a boat together, the three of us. Did I ever tell you that?”

Tony shook his head, eyes wide.

Gibbs’ eyes had a far away look, and he smiled as he remembered. “At first Kelly couldn’t help too much, so she decided to keep us entertained with telling stories. You know the kind of stories a four year old girl can tell, Tony?” Gibbs glanced over at Tony, who shook his head again. “Long, convoluted, contradictory, and filled with little girl logic.” He laughed as a particular memory struck him. “One time she insisted on making me the handsome prince who kept rescuing all the princesses and marrying them. Shannon complained that I was already married, so Kelly decided that Shannon had to fight the princesses to keep me. She made me sit in a chair, over in a corner, and Shannon had to pretend to fight her way through a crowd of princesses to get to me. Kelly would tell her where each princess was and what she was doing, and Shannon had to act out how she’d fight each one off. Funniest damn thing I ever saw. I was laughing so hard I fell out of the chair.”

Tony’s eyes were shining with delight. “Did Shannon win you back?”

Gibbs nodded. “As I remember, she tricked the last princess into kissing a frog, and the princess turned into a frog and hopped away. Just as she was sitting in my lap to rescue me with a kiss, Kelly declared that the princesses had given me cooties, and that the only way to get rid of them was to eat chocolate cake and ice cream.”

Tony laughed. “I take it Kelly had cake and ice cream for dessert that night.”

“Yeah, she did. We all did.” Gibbs smiled. He could picture that whole afternoon in his head so clearly, despite not having let himself remember it for a long time. He looked over at Tony. “I guess Abby’s right, Tony. You must be the handsome prince now.”

Tony snorted. “You might want to rethink that, Jethro, ‘cause that would make you a princess. And you are NO princess.”

Gibbs had to agree with that. He shoved himself away from the bench, and strode over to the wall where the stain and brushes were sitting. “Let’s go DiNozzo. Time to teach you to stain a deck.”

“On your six, Boss.”

 **Saturday Evening**

The deck wasn’t large, so they’d managed to get a coat of stain on it before stopping for the day. Tony had done a decent job, managing not to get too much stain all over himself and Gibbs. Gibbs was sure that every bit of stain that ended up on himself was completely intentional. How Tony managed to get stain in his own hair, though, was beyond Gibbs’ ability to comprehend. By the time they were done, both men were so hungry they decided to eat first and clean up later. Gibbs had the grill set up in the driveway so that the deck could dry properly; it didn’t take too long to cook and eat, so they were done with the steak and potatoes just as it was getting dark. When Tony got up to put his dishes in the sink, Gibbs told him to stay put. He cleared the table, then set a small plate and fork in front of Tony. He went to the fridge and took out the small chocolate cake he’d gotten earlier, setting it down in front of Tony with a flourish. Tony grinned up at him, then asked, “Where’s your plate?”

Gibbs sat down. “Wasn’t planning on having any. Got it for you.”

Tony shook his head, got up, got a small plate and two spoons, setting them on the table. Then he went to the freezer and took out a container of coffee ice cream, bringing it over to the table and sitting back down. Gibbs’ eyebrows shot up. “When did that get here?”

Tony grinned at him again. “When you sent me to the hardware store for those screws to replace the rusty ones you found. I took a little detour to the grocery store.” He started to dish out ice cream onto each plate, also cutting the cake and giving each of them a slice. He pushed the plate to Gibbs, then started in on his own dessert, commenting, “Have to make sure you don’t have any cooties, you know. Eat.” He didn’t look at Gibbs as he said it.

Gibbs stared at Tony for a second, then at the dessert in front of him. He waited for that awful twist in his gut that usually accompanied the memories when they came out of nowhere, but it didn’t happen. He looked back at Tony, who was eating his dessert enthusiastically; Gibbs could see the tension in his neck and shoulders. He nodded to himself, picked up his spoon, and dug in. “Good thing you thought of this, Tony. Wouldn’t want cooties to keep us from figuring more stuff out later on.”

Tony glanced up at Gibbs and relaxed when he saw the small smile on Gibbs’ lips. He hadn’t been sure it was the right thing to do, but he’d wanted some gesture that showed Gibbs he thought Shannon and Kelly should stay in Gibbs’ life. Seemed like he’d gotten it right after all.

After dessert Gibbs went into the living room and turned the tv to ZNN. Tony followed after cleaning up the dishes, and they both sat on the couch. They watched for a few minutes; Gibbs reached over to stroke Tony’s hair.

“Thanks, Tony.”

“Anytime, Jeth.”

Gibbs’ fingers encountered a rough patch in Tony’s hair, and he leaned over to investigate. “How the hell did you get stain in your hair, Tony?”

Tony reached up, batting Gibbs’ fingers away so he could feel the damage. “ _Please_ tell me this will come out!”

Gibbs laughed. “Yeah, it will. Let’s go and use some good old fashioned Marine quality soap on that.” He stood up and held his hand out to Tony, who took it and let Gibbs help him up. Gibbs held on to Tony’s hand and pulled him toward the stairs. Tony followed obediently.

Gibbs led him into the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, then dropped his hand and started to pull off his own shirt. Tony watched the play of muscles in Gibbs’ back, then reached out to run his hand along Gibbs’ spine. “You gonna wash my hair for me, Jeth?”

Jethro turned to look at Tony, then smiled. “Unless you’d rather I didn’t.” His voice was a bit husky.

Tony shook his head. “I’ve got no problem with that.”

“Good.”

Jethro turned to the shower, leaning in to turn the water on. Tony finished stripping off his clothes, and stood watching Jethro do the same. It occurred to him that this was the first time they were going to be completely naked together since their relationship changed, and he realized he was a little nervous. Jethro turned around and just looked at Tony for a minute; the younger man resisted the sudden urge to cover himself with his hands while at the same time he was trying not to look at Jethro’s half-hard cock, failing miserably.

“Tony.”

Tony tried to answer, and found he had to clear his throat first. Even so, his voice came out a little higher pitched than normal. “Yeah, Jeth?”

Jethro stepped closer to him and pulled him in for a hug, only touching from the chest up. He spoke softly in Tony’s ear. “I can tell you’re nervous, Tony. It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything except get clean.”

Tony relaxed in Jethro’s arms. “I probably wouldn’t be nervous if I hadn’t started thinking about it. I do want to touch you, Jethro. I want more of what we had last night… I just don’t want to disappoint you if I’m not ready to do more. And I can’t believe I sound like a fucking virgin.”

Jethro laughed. “That sounds like a complete contradiction to me. Tony, I don’t know what I’m ready for either… how about we play it by ear, and we just check in with each other, and agree to say something if either one of us isn’t comfortable. And Tony,” Jethro’s arms tightened around him before he continued, “after what you did for me today, I _couldn’t_ be disappointed in you.”

Tony pulled back and looked Jethro in the eyes. “Didn’t know staining the deck meant so much to you, Jeth.”

For that, Tony got a light smack on the head, followed by a kiss. Jethro’s lips moved over Tony’s lightly, barely touching, sliding from left to right, then coming back in the opposite direction with more pressure, then returning again with Jethro’s tongue moving over Tony’s lips. The sensation was comforting and seductive at the same time, and Tony felt like he was falling into the kiss. Jethro pulled back, took Tony’s hand, and led him into the shower.

The hot water felt great on both their bodies. Tony rinsed his hair, then turned around, facing the spray while Jethro poured shampoo on Tony’s head and began a thorough and efficient cleaning. After a few minutes, he said “Rinse,” and Tony did, running his fingers through his hair, finding the rough feel of the stain gone. Slicking his hair back from his eyes, he turned to Jethro, saying “Thanks.” Jethro nodded, then picked up the soap, lathered his hands, and started cleaning off the rest of Tony. After Tony rinsed off the soap, they switched places, and Tony returned the favor. Since Jethro had somehow managed _not_ to get stain in his hair, Tony’s cleaning was less efficient and more of a massage. Tony used the soap the same way Jethro had, getting him clean and then pushing him under the spray to rinse off. Jethro shook the wet hair out of his eyes, and the two men looked at each other for a moment.

Without breaking eye contact, Tony lathered his hands again, then reached out, pulling Jethro toward him and out of the water. He put the soap down on the shelf, then took a step forward, one hand resting on Jethro’s chest, the other arm encircling him, hand running along his shoulders. Tony started stroking lightly, soapy hands moving smoothly over Jethro’s muscles, front and back. Jethro’s head tilted back as Tony’s left hand moved lightly across his neck, then down his chest, brushing over his nipples, then diagonally across his abdomen and back up. Tony’s right hand moved down Jethro’s back, tracing his spine, then back up in a light zig zag across his back, than back down, all the way to his ass, stroking both muscled cheeks before moving back up. Jethro hummed in pleasure and tilted his head forward so he rested his forehead on Tony’s shoulder.

Tony whispered in Jethro’s ear. “Can I touch you?” Jethro moved his head up, capturing Tony’s lips with his own, exploring Tony’s mouth with his tongue. He moved his hand along Tony’s left arm, sliding down to grasp Tony’s hand, which he squeezed, and then moving Tony’s hand down so that his fingers brushed against Jethro’s cock, which was now rock hard and standing up straight against Jethro’s abdomen. He let go of Tony’s hand as Tony’s fingers encircled his cock, then moved his own arms to pull Tony closer to him, sliding both hands down Tony’s back, caressing his ass firmly, rubbing the flesh there and moaning softly as Tony started moving his hand up and down Jethro’s cock, using a light pressure and rubbing his thumb over the tip. That last action caused Jethro to hiss softly and involuntarily thrust forward.

Tony’s nervousness had long since disappeared; Jethro’s reactions to his touch made him bold, and he wanted nothing more than to make the man feel good. He pulled back from the kiss, leaning in and whispering in Jethro’s ear again, “Do you want to come? Tell me how you like it… I want it to be so good for you, Jeth…” Jethro gasped and shuddered as Tony increased the pressure on his cock, adding a twist to the motion of his hand as it slid up and down, lather from the soap easing the way. Tony felt Jethro’s breath on his ear as the older man told him “build pressure… and speed… slowly… then fast and hard… oh, god, Tony…” Tony did exactly as Jethro asked, feeling his lover’s body start to shake as he started moving harder and faster, just a little bit at a time, until Jethro was thrusting helplessly into Tony’s hand, crying out “Tony - Tony, oh my god, yes!” throwing his head back and screaming as he came, pulsing strongly in Tony’s grip, then sagging against him as he was done.

Jethro’s body was limp for only a moment before he straightened up, kissed Tony’s neck, then pulled back to look Tony in the eyes. His mouth opened, but no words came out… he gave Tony a small smile, leaned in to kiss him, hand at the back of Tony’s head, fingers in his hair, holding him in place. He broke the kiss, pulled back again, and asked, “Can I do the same for you?” Tony nodded, speechless over what had just happened. Jethro smiled at him, moving forward to palm Tony’s ass with one hand while the other found Tony’s cock in much the same state as Jethro’s had been: rock hard and standing up straight. Moving his head back just a bit, he squeezed Tony’s cock lightly, and asked, “Okay?” Tony nodded vigorously.

“How do you want it, Tony? Tell me.”

Tony closed his eyes for a second, overwhelmed by the almost pleading tone in Jethro’s voice. “Anything, Jeth, just touch me…”

Jethro obliged, pulling Tony close so that they were pressed together, shifting his own legs back just a bit to allow some room for his hand to move. He started off slow and light, moving his hand all the way up the shaft and all the way down, then removing it for a moment to get more lather, coming back and gripping a bit harder, making Tony moan with pleasure. He moved his hand up and over the tip of Tony cock, running the surface of his palm along it, causing Tony to gasp, “oh yeah” escaping his lips. Jethro leaned in, nibbling lightly on Tony’s neck, fingers gripping his cock a little harder, moving his hand a little faster, still all the way up and down. A low moan came from Tony’s mouth as Jethro gripped even harder, pulling Tony more tightly against him, moving his mouth to Tony’s ear and beginning a stream of beguiling words, “Tony, Tony, you’re amazing like this, you turn me on so much, I never thought it could be this way, you make me want so much, I want to give you everything…” Jethro’s hand was moving fast, and Tony could do nothing but hang onto Jethro, one hand at the back of Jethro’s head now, the other arm around his waist. Tony’s breathing was fast and shallow, his face pressed into Jethro’s neck, not even thrusting because of the speed with which Jethro’s hand moved. Suddenly Tony slammed his groin into Jethro’s crying out wordlessly as he came.

Jethro immediately loosened his grip on Tony’s cock, holding the other man in a gentle hug. They stood like that for several minutes, until the water started to run cool. Jethro stepped back first, looking at Tony’s face, smoothing his wet hair back. Tony looked happy and sated, reflecting how Jethro himself was feeling. Tony leaned in and kissed Jethro lightly. Both men then moved under the spray, washing off quickly as the water went from cool to cold. Jethro turned off the faucet, opened the shower door, and grabbed two towels, handing one to Tony and stepping out onto the mat to dry himself off. He stood up straight as he felt Tony’s arms come around him from behind, and leaned back into the hug. Tony kissed him on the cheek, then said, “Thanks, Jeth. That was… it was incredible. I don’t think I’ll be so nervous anymore.”

Jethro turned to look at Tony. “Me either.”

Tony stared at him, surprised. “You? You were nervous? I couldn’t tell.”

Jethro smiled. “I’ve never done anything like that with a man either, remember? Of course I was nervous.”

Tony sighed. “I’m really looking forward to doing that again.” He glanced over at Jethro. “And more.”

“We’ll get there, Tony. I still don’t want to rush things. We’ve got a lot of stuff to work out, and I don’t want either of us getting hurt. Maybe tomorrow we can look at those books some more, or go back to your place and check out some of those websites.”

Tony grinned. “Back to school, huh, Jeth?”

Jethro rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Tony… whatever you say.” He reached up and ruffled Tony’s hair.


	9. The Weekend Together - Part Three

**Sunday Morning**

Tony woke up sometime early on Sunday morning. He wasn’t sure what time it was; he could hear birds and see it was light out. Sitting up to look at the clock wasn’t an option. He was lying on his back, and once again Jethro was draped over him as if Tony were a giant teddy bear. He took inventory… Jethro’s head rested on Tony’s left shoulder, his face nuzzled into his neck. He was breathing softly and regularly, certainly fast asleep. His right arm curled up against that same shoulder, and his left arm was lying diagonally across Tony’s chest and abdomen, hand curled around Tony’s right hip. Both legs were entangled with his own. They hadn’t bothered with the boxers anymore, and he could feel Jethro’s soft cock lightly pressed against his left thigh.

Tony thought about why he was wide awake. He’d slept deeply; he didn’t remember waking up at all after they’d gone to bed. His mind replayed what had happened in the shower, and what happened afterwards. They’d dried off, thrown on sweats and t-shirts, and gone downstairs to the basement. Tony had talked about some movies he wanted to see, as well as movies he wanted Jethro to see, while Jethro had been looking over plans for something; Tony wasn’t sure what, but a glance at the plans had shown it was something big. Jethro had listened and asked questions, and promised to go to at least one movie with Tony. They’d gone to bed a little after midnight. Tony had wondered if they’d experiment some more, but he hadn’t picked up that vibe from Jethro, so he didn’t say or do anything, just waited for Jethro to take the lead. Tony had gotten into bed first (and yeah, he definitely needed to go sheet shopping), laying his head on one arm, the other across his abdomen while he watched Jethro. The older man had moved toward the bed, then hesitated, turned, and left the room. Tony heard him on the stairs, then nothing for a moment, then heard his footsteps on the stairs again. Jethro had come back in, smiled at Tony, walked to the other side of the bed, stripped off his boxers, and gotten under the covers. Turning to Tony, he’d propped up on his right arm and started combing the fingers of his left hand through Tony’s hair. It was gentle and soothing, and Tony had closed his eyes, concentrating on the feeling. He’d asked Jethro what he’d forgotten; the older man’s answer had been “to lock the doors.” Tony had smiled, and felt Jethro lean in. Light kisses on his lips and face, followed by more caresses, and then a whispered order to sleep. Which they had both followed, apparently.

Tony was comfortable with Jethro lying on him; he flashed back to Abby in his apartment calling Jethro ‘Hero Protector.’ He wondered if that’s why the man seemed to need to sleep so close. If that was the case, it meant he was important to Jethro, even in his sleep, and Tony really liked being that important. He thought again about their encounter in the shower last night… the memory made him happy and his body started to respond to it, obviously interested in a repeat. He willed it down, as much as he could, anyway. He needed this to be about more than just sex, and Jethro was right; they still had a lot to talk about, and it would be easy to get sidetracked. For the first time since Jeanne, Tony really wanted a relationship to work out, to be permanent. He wanted to know that they could be together for real, that this wasn’t just another of his flings that might last a weekend, or maybe even a few weeks before sputtering out like a spent candle.

Tony was once again mildly surprised that he wasn’t more confused and apprehensive about being involved with a man. He tried to remember his feelings toward Gibbs, going back over all the years they’d been working together. He remembered standing up to the older man as a police officer at the crime scene in Baltimore, when Gibbs had insisted on taking over Tony’s case, citing NCIS jurisdiction; he even remembered the pride he’d felt when he was on the receiving end of a glare tinged with admiration, and the excitement when Gibbs had said “you’re with me, Officer DiNozzo” when he’d been given the case by Tony’s captain, since Tony refused to back down. Those emotions had been eclipsed by his astonishment at being recruited for Gibbs’ team once he’d been instrumental in solving the case. None of his previous supervisors in law enforcement had been able to see past the joking around to the talent Tony knew he possessed. He’d wanted to repay Gibbs for believing in him ever since; it wasn’t long before Gibbs really had become a mentor, and not just a boss. Added to the pride and excitement on Tony’s part were worry for Gibbs’ safety anytime they went in the field, and determination not to let the man down. He knew Gibbs had become important to him early on; he didn’t think, though, that he’d been attracted to the man physically, beyond a general admiration for his skills and his ability to stay in such great shape despite getting older.

Maybe Abby and Ducky were right, maybe it really was the person inside that was most important when it came to making a relationship last. Tony had rarely considered that when dating; he’d focused on the superficial traits. Kate had always given him such a hard time about that, but he hadn’t been looking for anything lasting back then. After things with Jeanne went haywire, he’d found it difficult to go back to being casual, finally wanting more, wanting someone to come home with at night. Being on Gibbs’ team limited his time and opportunities to find someone like that, and frankly he hadn’t really known how to go about it anyway. He’d never have found Jeanne without her being an assignment, after all. And then it was like he’d told Gibbs a few nights ago… he hadn’t felt the need after a while, because somehow Gibbs really had filled that void. Maybe it just made sense… he and Gibbs complemented each other in a lot of ways, and Ducky had once told him that Gibbs used to be a lot like Tony when he was younger. They understood each other, they cared about each other… maybe taking their relationship to this level just made sense, and them both being men was simply irrelevant.

“You’re thinking hard.” Jethro’s voice was husky from sleep.

Tony turned his head to look into his eyes. “Just thinking about why this works. It really does, doesn’t it?”

Jethro’s arm tightened around Tony. “Yeah, it does.” He snuggled in to Tony’s side, kissing his neck lightly.

Tony smiled, and tilted his head to gently rub against Jethro’s. “What do you want to do today?”

Jethro sighed and stretched a bit, moving his legs away from Tony’s. “Shower, make breakfast, put that second coat of stain on the deck. Get the stain out of your hair again, then go to your place, do some of that research, hang out for a while.”

Tony laughed. “What if I don’t get any stain in my hair this time?”

Jethro grinned at him. “Think you can avoid it?”

Tony tilted his chin up, and said in an affected accent, “I have many hidden talents.”

Jethro levered himself up and turned so he was lying on top of Tony, bracing on his forearms on either side. “I bet you do. I’m looking forward to exploring all of them. And I intend to have plenty of time to do that.” He moved to kiss Tony, the kiss quickly turning deep and passionate, and just as quickly ending as Jethro rolled off of Tony, off the bed, and strode into the bathroom.

Tony grinned. _It’s gonna be a good day._

After breakfast, which consisted of pancakes made by Jethro and sausages by Tony, they went out to the deck and settled in to do the second coat of stain. They worked quietly for a while, with Tony humming some random tune in his head every so often.

After a while, Tony decided to clue Jethro in on what Abby had told him on the phone yesterday.

“So, Jeth, about rule 12…” He trailed off and watched Jethro out of the corner of his eye, looking to see how the man took the opener.

Jethro sighed, then with a upward quirk to the side of his mouth, said “Report.”

Tony laughed. “I do have some intel for you.”

Jethro glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow. Grinning and shaking his head, Tony started reporting as ordered. “Abby said Ziva’s the one who figured it out. She said something to McGee, who went freakazoid about it.” He paused to see if Jethro would react to that; when the man simply kept staining, Tony continued. “Ziva’s cool with it as long as it doesn’t affect the team or show up too much at work, I guess. They both want to know how we’re going to explain breaking rule 12. And Abby said McGee has some more complicated issues, but she assured me that we just need to hear him out.” Jethro grunted in acknowledgment. Tony smirked a little to himself, then added, “Apparently McGee’s always had this huge crush on you, but was content to live with it since you’re obviously not into men. Now, though, he’s jealous and kinda pissed off.”

Jethro sat up suddenly at that, wide-eyed and looking shocked. Tony couldn’t help but crow “Gotcha!” and started laughing hysterically. Jethro’s eyes narrowed; he carefully placed his brush on the edge of the can of stain, stood up, brushed off his jeans, and stared at Tony, whose laughter faded as he watched. “Uh oh,” Tony said. Then he was up and moving, carelessly dropping his own brush as he sprinted to the stairs, trying to get a head start. He barely made it into the backyard before he was tackled from behind, hitting the ground hard. He struggled to get up, but Jethro executed some sort of super strong Marine hold, and Tony found himself pinned on his back, looking up at Jethro, who grinned down at him. “Gotcha,” Jethro said softly. He then delivered a powerful head slap. Tony yelped and started laughing again. Jethro released him, rose to his feet, and extended a hand to Tony. Tony grabbed it and let Jethro pull him up. As soon as he was on his feet, he delivered his own stinging head slap to the side of Jethro’s head, and took off running. He heard Jethro coming up behind; flashing back to his football days, he dodged at the last second, changing direction and making for the back door. He zipped through, pounding up the stairs, barely getting into the bedroom before getting tackled again; at least it was a softer landing this time.

Jethro lay on top of Tony, both men laughing and trying to catch their breath. Tony quieted after a moment, seeing Jethro as he’d never seen him before… genuinely happy. Jethro’s laugher died down, and he looked at Tony to find him staring. “What?”

“You’re gorgeous like this.”

Jethro’s eyebrows went up and a faint tinge of red appeared on his face. Tony reached up and pulled Jethro’s head down. He kissed him deeply, rolling Jethro over so that Tony was now on top of him. Supporting himself on his forearms, with his hands lightly holding Jethro’s head, he poured as much of his emotions as he could into the kiss, trying to communicate his own burgeoning joy at this new connection they had. Jethro reached up with his own hands, running his fingers through Tony’s hair and returning the favor. Tony pulled back after a few minutes, gazing into Jethro’s eyes. “Wow.”

Jethro grinned. “Agreed.”

Tony rolled off of him, propping his head up on his left hand, leaving his right hand to lightly stroke Jethro’s chest. Jethro rested his own head on his right arm, moving his left hand to capture Tony’s right, threading his fingers through the younger man’s and squeezing gently. He kept returning Tony’s gaze for a moment, then spoke. “So, does McGee really have a problem, or were you just having fun?”

Tony smirked at him, then his expression changed to something more serious as he remembered his conversation with Abby. “No, he really does have a problem, but Abs wouldn’t tell me exactly what. Just asked me to take him seriously. She did say it’s not a crush, though.”

“Thank god for that.”

“Yeah, right? Can you imagine me having to fight for you?”

Jethro grinned at him. “Might be fun to see that. You are supposed to be rescuing me, right?”

“Hey, I think I’m doing a damn good job of that!”

“Yeah, Tony, you are.”

“And I’d win.”

“Oh, yeah, you would. I’d make sure of it.”

Tony grinned, then sighed. “We’d better go back to the deck, or I’m going to want to just stay here for the rest of the day... and I’m not sure we should do that.”

Jethro looked at him curiously. Tony sighed. “I’m all for doing that research later on, but if we spend the day being physical, we won’t be focused enough to deal with the team the way we need to. And I was serious about not letting this affect the team. I want to spend time with you today, but I don’t want to have my brain full of sex thoughts about you at work tomorrow.”

Jethro nodded. “I was sort of thinking along the same lines,” he admitted. “Thought after we hang out at your place later, I’ll come back here and see you at work tomorrow morning. Not what I want, really, but probably what we should do until we’re sure the team’s okay with things.”

Tony sighed and nodded in agreement. He got up, reaching out to pull Jethro to his feet. They headed out of the room and back to the deck. Reclaiming their brushes, they settled back in.

“We’ll have to find time and a place to talk to them,” Jethro commented after a few minutes. “I don’t think this is a conversation we want to have in view of the security cameras.”

Tony grimaced. “No kidding. Maybe if we don’t get an opportunity, we could have them come here? We could order dinner, talk to them then.”

Jethro thought about it for a second, then nodded. “Good idea, Tony. We’ll do that if we don’t get the chance at work.”

Head down, Tony continued to stain for a while, then asked, “So, how _are_ we going to explain about rule 12?”

Jethro sat back, sighing. “I was thinking of amending it, actually.”

“To what? Never date a coworker unless you’re the team leader and his senior agent named Tony?”

Jethro snorted. “Never date a coworker if you can’t keep it out of the office and from affecting the team.”

Tony nodded, thinking. “So we stay the way we’ve always been at work. Think we can do it?”

Jethro looked at him. “I hope so. I’m guessing most of the time it won’t be a problem. Unless…”

Tony waited, and when nothing more was forthcoming, he finished with “Unless one of us is in danger.”

Jethro looked at him, troubled. “Yeah.”

“All we can do it try, Jeth. And maybe nothing like that will happen until we all settle in.”

Jethro gave Tony a small smile. “We can hope.”

Tony returned the smile, and they went back to staining.

 **At Tony’s Apartment**

After a late lunch, which consisted of sandwiches Gibbs picked up at a deli, the two men did a few more small jobs around the house. Jethro teased Tony for not being very good with a drill, and Tony teased Jethro for actually using power tools. After cleaning up (Tony did manage not to get stain in his hair after all), they drove separately over to Tony’s apartment. Gibbs brought his books with him, and settled on the couch, pulling out his glasses. Tony cued up some music – “Cool jazz, Miles Davis” he told Jethro - and sat in front of his laptop, going through more of the sites that Abby had bookmarked for him. They each read for a while, mostly focused on their own trains of thought.

After a couple of hours, Tony put the lap top to sleep, stretched, and wandered over to the couch. Jethro was flipping through the second book Abby had given him, the one on intimacy and relationships. He sighed, closed the book, and tossed it onto the coffee table. He looked up at Tony, who sat on the couch next to him, reaching for the first book.

“Done with this one?” he asked, as he sat back.

“For now,” Jethro said.

Tony looked over the table of contents. “What did you read about?”

Jethro sat up a bit, scratching his head. “Mostly different positions, how to be safe, that sort of thing. Didn’t bother with the sections on gay politics and such… that’s not what we’re about.”

Tony grunted in agreement. He turned a few pages, read for a bit, then looked over at Jethro, tossing the book back on the table. “Yeah, me too.” He gestured to the other book. “How’s that one?”

Jethro shrugged. “Abby meant well, but I don’t think it’s going to be all that helpful. We already have a long-term relationship; we’re just adding to it. I think a lot of the way we interact is sort of set. We’re going to have to do things in ways that will work for us. Not sure a book is going to hold the answers to that.”

Tony nodded. “Makes sense to me.”

Both men were silent. Tony reached out for Jethro’s hand, looking at it and playing with his fingers. Jethro watched him, amused. After a few minutes, Tony glanced over at Jethro and asked, “So, you ever gone in through the back door?”

Jethro laughed. “If you’re asking if I’ve engaged in anal sex, the answer is yes.”

Tony grinned at him. “Think you’ll want to try it sometime?”

Jethro smiled back. “Don’t see why not. I’m probably up for trying most things.”

Tony huffed out a breath and looked intently at Jethro’s hand again. “I’m thinking you’re probably a top, huh?”

Jethro quirked an eyebrow at him. “I wouldn’t really know. Was never on the receiving end. Like I said, I’m probably willing to try both ways, see what we like. What about you?”

Tony continued to trace Jethro’s fingers with his own. After a moment he replied, “I’ve done both. Enjoyed both. Would like to try both with you, some day.”

Jethro gripped Tony’s hand, tugging him closer. “Then we will. Some day. What’s got you uncomfortable about it?”

Tony shrugged, glancing at him. “It hit me that I’m planning to do these things with you. And you’re _Gibbs_. Sometimes I get sort of weirded out about that.”

Jethro was a bit confused. “It weirds you out that I’m Gibbs?”

Tony laughed. “Sometimes I remind myself that you’re my boss, that you’re the same hard-ass who’s been head slapping me and giving me orders for all these years. And then I think about what we did in the shower yesterday, and it’s just… like I’m in an alternate reality, or something. I mean, a week ago, would you ever have thought we’d be having a conversation like this?”

“Nope. But I’m glad we are.”

Tony smiled and relaxed a bit. He glanced over at the stereo. “Want tv instead of music?”

Jethro considered that. “Which one is better for making out?”

Tony thought it over. “Not gonna watch much tv if we’re lip-locking.”

Jethro nodded seriously. “Thought so.”

He tugged on Tony’s hand again, and Tony followed, ending up with his body covering Jethro’s as the older man slid down the couch at the same time, resting his head on the arm. Tony kissed Jethro’s lips lightly, then shifted over a bit and put his fingers under Jethro’s chin, nudging him to turn his head a bit. Jethro did, and Tony traced his fingers over the fading marks on his neck. “Don’t think anyone will notice,” he said.

“Good. Now I don’t have to head smack you.”

Tony grinned, and moved back into position. “I’m starting to wonder if that wasn’t some sort of bizarre foreplay all along.”

Jethro snorted and reached out to tug Tony down on top of him. He moved his head and bit lightly on the side of Tony’s neck. He heard Tony draw in a breath, then moved over to kiss his lips softly. Tony kept the weight of his upper body mostly on his forearms, letting his legs tangle with Jethro’s. He moved his fingers into Jethro’s hair and started kissing in earnest. He kept his touch on Jethro’s hair light and easy, varying the kisses in intensity. Sometimes light, sometimes more passionate, sometimes there was tongue involved, sometimes there wasn’t. Jethro responded in kind, not letting things get too deep. They were both conscious of the fact that they’d essentially agreed not to take things too far tonight, so they could be sure to be focused tomorrow. Jethro had more freedom to move his arms, and he ran his hands lightly along Tony’s back and sides, occasionally caressing his ass as well. Every time he did that, Tony would raise his rear up a bit and shake it; the first time he did it, he had Jethro laughing into the kiss. Both men ignored their erections, relaxing into the experience and simply affirming the growing bond between them.

After a while, Tony shifted so that he wasn’t on top of Jethro, lying so his back was against the back of the couch. Jethro followed suit, lying on his side and facing Tony. They kept kissing; now Tony could move to caress Jethro, running his hands along his sides, back and ass. He squeezed one of Jethro’s butt cheeks, causing the older man to press forward against Tony and let out a small moan. “Not fair,” Jethro complained, pulling back from Tony’s mouth.

Tony laughed. “Sorry, Jeth.”

Jethro sighed, caressing the back of Tony’s head. “Dinner?” he asked.

Tony sighed too, moving to sit up. “Probably a good idea. What do you want?”

Jethro sat up too, thinking. “Maybe Chinese?”

Tony reached for his phone, which he’d put on the coffee table earlier. “You want the usual?” At Jethro’s nod, he called and placed the order. Putting down his phone and picking up the remote, he switched off the stereo and put on ESPN’s Sunday night baseball. “Ah, cool! Yankees and Red Sox!”

He settled back on the couch, and they watched the game, Tony’s hand resting on Jethro’s thigh and Jethro’s fingers running through Tony’s hair. The food arrived eventually, and they ate in front of the tv. Tony motioned for Jethro to stay put while he cleaned up quickly. He resumed his seat on the couch within a few minutes, and they went back to light touches while they watched the game.

They watched for close to another hour, commenting on the game occasionally, until Jethro finally decided it was time to go home. He squeezed Tony’s neck, then leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before standing. “Gonna head out. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

Tony sighed, tilting his head back and looking up at him. “Yeah, okay. Tomorrow should be interesting, huh? At least you’re done in MTAC, and we’re off cold cases, right?”

Jethro nodded. “Yeah. Once we get called out, anyway.” He stood there, looking down at Tony.

Tony smiled. “Go on, get out of here. Or I’ll change my mind and let Ziva and McGee take their chances on our focus tomorrow.”

Jethro shook his head. “Night, Tony.”

“Night, Jeth.”

Jethro left Tony still sitting in front of the tv, closing the door quietly behind him.


	10. Keeping It Out Of The Office

**Back In The Bullpen**

Once again, Tony cleared security just as Gibbs was getting on the elevator. Gibbs turned to hit the button and saw Tony jogging over, so he held the door until Tony got in. The same young agent who’d been scared off the last time by the infamous Gibbs Glare was headed their way; he looked up, saw them, slowed down and threw up his hands, shaking his head as the doors started to close. Tony chuckled and Gibbs smirked. “I think I’m starting to like him. He anticipates.”

“You’ve already got a full team, Boss.”

Gibbs looked over at Tony. “Sleep okay?”

“Lousy. You?”

“Same.”

Tony gave Gibbs a visual once-over, then said, “I could get you a giant teddy bear, Boss.”

Gibbs returned the favor, letting his eyes travel slowly down and up Tony’s body. “Wouldn’t be quite the same, DiNozzo.” The intense look he gave Tony when he met his eyes caused the senior field agent to shiver.

“New rule 12, Boss… remember?”

Gibbs sighed, nodded, and went back to watching the lights change in the elevator as it ascended.

They strode into the bullpen as soon as the doors opened. Tony tossed his backpack into its usual corner, and Gibbs moved past him to go to his own desk, greeting Ziva as he went. Tony sat in his chair, booting up his computer with a flourish, then looked up to see Ziva gazing at him thoughtfully.

“What is it, my former Mossad angel? And good morning, by the way.”

“Good morning, Tony. You are recovered from your shock of last week?”

Tony wrinkled his nose. “It was more of a flashback. And yes, I’m fine.” A glance at Gibbs showed his boss was apparently ignoring them, focused on his computer and drinking his coffee, but to Tony’s Enhanced Gibbs Radar Updated Version 9.2, it was obvious the man was listening intently.

Ziva, meanwhile, was shooting him a skeptical look. “Ducky said you were suffering from mild shock.” She too glanced at Gibbs, who continued to ignore her. Encouraged by his supposed inattention, she got up from her desk and made her way over to Tony’s. Leaning over, she whispered, “I know why you were upset, Tony. And I also know who you are currently dating.”

Tony gave her a wide smile. “Could we not talk about this right now, right here?”

Ziva’s expression turned flinty. “Then when? We need to talk, Tony. McGee is not –“

“Probationary Agent Da-veed.” Gibbs’ voice carried easily from his desk. “Do you need me to find some work for you to do?”

Ziva straightened up and walked quickly back to her desk, widening her eyes meaningfully at Tony as she went. He gave her a shrug and his most winning, insincere grin. Glancing again at Gibbs, he saw the older man trying not to smile.

The three of them settled in to work, reviewing e-mails and generally catching up on paperwork. Gibbs sat up a little at his computer, brow furrowed; he looked over at Tony, then commented to both Tony and Ziva, “McGee is taking the morning off. He’ll be in after lunch.”

Tony grimaced. His eyes met Gibbs’; it was clear to each of them that the other was thinking they needed to get things dealt with as soon as possible. There was a question in Gibbs’ eyes; Tony answered it with a short nod. Gibbs cleared his throat.

“Ziva.”

“Yes, Gibbs?”

“Are you free to come over to my place after work today?”

Ziva’s eyebrows shot up, and she glanced over at Tony, who was studiously ignoring her. “Yes, Gibbs, I can be there. Do you need me to bring anything?”

“I’ll order in.”

Ziva nodded. Tony looked over at Gibbs again, and made a slight typing motion with his fingers. Gibbs caught it, and nodded to him. Tony logged in to his personal account and sent out a short e-mail: _Hey Tim, can you make it to Gibbs’ place tonight after work?_ He switched to another window, but wasn’t at all surprised when he heard the ping of e-mail notification almost immediately. One word answer: _Why?_

Tony frowned and typed in a reply, _We want to talk to you guys about stuff we can’t really talk about at work._

From McGee: _By ‘we,’ I assume you mean you and Gibbs? Or do you call him ‘Jethro’ now?_

Tony: _I call him Boss or Gibbs at work, just like I always have. And yes, we want to talk with you and Ziva._

McGee: _With or at? Do we have any input on what’s happening?_

Tony: _Look, Tim, neither one of us wants this to affect the team._

McGee: _Then why change it?_

Tony: _We’re not going to. That’s what we want to talk to you about, McPetulant._

McGee: _Oh, nice word, Tony. Screwing Gibbs helping with your vocabulary?_

Tony sat back, staring at the screen. He shoved down the budding anger he was feeling; that wouldn’t help. He thought for a moment. _Defuse the situation, don’t add to it._

Tony: _They do say the brain is the biggest sex organ. Seriously, Tim, we don’t want this to change anything. We’re keeping it out of the office._

McGee: _Yeah, that’ll work._

Tony: _Will you come tonight?_

McGee: _If I don’t, you’ll just come here, won’t you? Fine, I’ll be there._

Tony: _Thanks. I mean that. You know, this would be easier with IM._

McGee: _You’re just figuring that out?_

Tony: _Ha ha. Hey, you’re coming in after lunch, right? Want to pick up something for us on your way in?_

McGee: _Not particularly._

Tony: _Hey, rule 15, McSelfish – always work as a team._

McGee: _Oh, so I’m the selfish one now? And the rules only apply when you want them to? Good to know. I’ll see you later._

Tony looked at the screen and sighed. He’d thought for a moment that he’d successfully steered McGee to a more neutral approach. _Apparently not._ He looked up to see Gibbs watching him, looking concerned. Tony flicked his eyes toward the elevator, then back to Gibbs. Gibbs nodded and pushed his chair back, but just then, Gibbs’ desk phone rang. He answered, listened for a moment, and said “Be right there, Abs.” Another swallow of coffee, a glance at Tony, and Gibbs was gone. Tony sighed. _Guess we’ll talk later._

Ziva waited until Gibbs was out of sight, then jumped up and moved over in front of Tony’s desk. She smirked at him when he finally looked up at her. “Are we going to witness your commitment ceremony, Tony?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “After less than a week? Not likely. And read up on current events, Miss American Wanna Be… same-sex marriage is legal in five states and right here in good ol’ DC.”

Ziva looked at Tony curiously. “How long have you known?”

Trying to focus on his computer monitor, Tony asked, “Known what? That same-sex marriage is legal?”

“No, Tony! That you were in the closet – that is the correct saying, yes? You have never given a single hint that you are gay.”

“I’m not. And keep your voice down.”

“What do you mean by that? You and Gibbs are an article, are you not?”

Tony’s eyes widened as he got a sudden mental image of a picture of him and Gibbs _together_ on the front page of an NCIS newsletter… or the home page of the official agency website. He shook his head and sighed.

“Item, Ziva. Yes, we are, and no, that doesn’t make either one of us gay. It’s just Gibbs, okay? No other guy, ever. And there’s a reason why you’re all invited to his house tonight… it’s so that we _don’t_ have this conversation at work!” He glared at her.

She huffed at him, obviously wanting to continue the discussion. Her spy instincts kicked in, though, as she looked around the bullpen. “Alright. I see your point. But we will talk about this tonight, yes?”

“Yes. Just drop it for now, okay?”

Ziva nodded and went back to her desk. She picked up her phone and punched a few numbers. “Yes, this is Ziva David. I left a message for Larry Johnson on Friday; he has not yet returned my call…. I see. Well, when he does come back to work, will you please have him call me? Thank you.” She hung up with a bit more force than necessary, glaring at the phone. Looking up, she caught Tony’s eye. “He has called in sick.”

Tony chuckled. “You gave him a heads up with your message. Of course he’s out sick.”

Ziva gave him an innocent look. “I just want to talk to him.” She picked up her knife and admired the light shining off of the blade.

 **More Invitations Issued**

Gibbs glanced in both directions as he got off the elevator near the door to Abby’s lab. _Hallway’s clear._ Caff-Pow in hand, he moved quickly and silently, crossing over to the wall next to the open door. With his back to the wall, he carefully peered around the corner to see Abby standing in front of her computer, her back to him. Her music was loud enough to mask the sound of his footsteps. With a little grin he moved, sliding through the door and to the left, so that he was directly behind her, in between Major Mass Spec and the evidence table. He quietly put the Caff-Pow on the table, then quickly ducked under the table when Abby started to turn. He crouched silently underneath while she exclaimed, “Gibbs!” Pause. “Gibbs?” He watched her boots; they turned in a full circle, then they turned to one side, and strode off towards the door to the inner office. As soon as the boots disappeared into the office, he shifted out from under the table and moved past the computer to stand in front of the plasma screen, looking at it as if it held all the secrets of the universe.

Actually, it held test results on the case involving Ensign Baxter’s murder, and he was extremely interested in the Baxter case, one of the recent cold cases he’d been looking over while waiting for his time in MTAC the previous week. His gut told him Lieutenant Pierce was in this up to his eyeballs, and he generally listened to his gut.

“Gibbs! How do you do that?”

“Do what, Abs? You got new results on Pierce?”

Abby narrowed her eyes, but sighed and dropped it. “Do I have results, Gibbs? How can you doubt me? Would I call you down here for nothing?” She slurped on her Caff-Pow, gazing at him.

He turned his head a bit to look at her. “After this weekend, given what you know, yeah.”

She considered that, then flashed him a big smile. “Right again, Bossman! But I do have results this time!” She turned to stand next to him, shoulder to shoulder while she gestured at the screen. “I went back through the evidence on the Baxter case, and besides the DNA results I told you about last week, I found fibers that match the carpeting in a 2008 Mazda CX-9. Whoever did the initial investigation missed them completely.”

Gibbs nodded, still looking at the screen. “That’s good work, Abs.” He turned toward her, to find her studying him closely. “What?”

“You don’t look any different. Maybe a bit more relaxed. Do you feel more relaxed?”

Gibbs sighed. “Do you expect me to start wearing gay pride t-shirts to work, Abs?”

She grinned at him. “Nope. You’re not gay; you’re just Tony-sexual. Answer my question, Gibbs!”

He smiled at her and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. “Yeah, Abs, I feel pretty good. Can you come over to the house tonight after work? Gonna talk to the whole team.”

Abby’s eyes widened. “Seriously? You’re going to talk about your feelings?”

Gibbs snorted. “Not if I can help it. But we need to be up front with them. So, you coming?”

Abby moved into his space and hugged him. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world! I can’t wait to see you and Tony together!”

Gibbs hugged back for a moment, then patted her shoulder as he started to move out of her embrace. “Not planning to put on a show, Abs. And we _will_ check you for electronic surveillance items at the door.”

She pouted at him; he chuckled and squeezed her shoulder before walking out of the lab. _One down, next stop Autopsy._

Gibbs took the elevator down to Autopsy. He walked through the sliding door and was brought up short, seeing Ducky in street clothes, hat in hand, and carrying a suitcase. Jimmy Palmer also looked like he was about to leave, carrying his own suitcase. The two men were apparently going over some sort of list as they walked toward the door. Ducky looked up as Gibbs entered.

“Jethro! We were just about to stop by on our way out.”

Gibbs eyed the suitcase. “Going somewhere, Duck?”

“Yes, indeed! A good friend of mine, a medical examiner in New York, has a family emergency and has given me his tickets to a professional conference in Chicago. It will be an invaluable experience for young Mr. Palmer. I cleared it with the Director a short time ago. Don’t worry, my temporary replacement will be here later this afternoon, and we should be back by the end of the week. But what brings you here, Jethro?”

Gibbs sighed. Ducky was supportive of his new relationship with Tony, and it would have been nice to have him there to help smooth things over with the team. _Suck it up, Marine_ , he thought to himself. “I’m having a little get-together at my house this evening, to go over some of the recent changes with the team. Was hoping you could make it, but obviously you’re busy.”

Ducky’s eyes lit up, and he smiled. “I take it the weekend went well, then?”

Gibbs flashed him a small grin. “Very well.”

“Ah, good! So young Anthony is doing better. Excellent. And you have both decided to move forward?”

“Yeah, Duck. We have. Just got to make sure everything’s okay with the team. Abby’s on board, have to talk it out with Ziva and McGee. They know the basics already.” Gibbs glanced over at Palmer, who looked suitably confused. He looked back at Ducky. “I’ll contact you if there are any problems, Duck?”

Ducky nodded, and glanced at Palmer, who was looking back and forth between the two men. He looked back at Gibbs and raised an eyebrow. Gibbs sighed again. “You heading out directly?” Ducky nodded. Gibbs looked at Palmer, who immediately started fidgeting. “Jimmy,” Gibbs finally said, “Abby won the pool. Keep it to yourself. Abby, Ziva and McGee are the only others in the know, and we want to keep it that way. Ducky knows what’s going on, he can fill you in. “

Gibbs continued to look at Palmer, who stared back, obviously completely confused. Gibbs waited. Palmer drew in a breath to speak. “What about Tony? Doesn’t he - oh! _That_ pool? Wow! Uh, congratulations! That’s great. I won’t say anything, I promise! That’s really super! Tell Tony I said so.” Gibbs couldn’t help himself; he raised an eyebrow and gave Palmer a small glare. “Um, I mean, if – if you want to tell him. I could just tell him myself – I’ll send him a text! So you don’t have to tell him. Of course, you don’t _have_ to do anything… um, right.” Palmer looked back at Gibbs, then turned and headed toward the elevator.

Ducky smiled, shook his head, and met Gibbs’ eyes. “Good for you, Jethro. I’m glad to see you’re letting Anthony in, after all this time. I’ll see you Friday, most likely, but do let me know how things go.” He reached out and patted Gibbs’ arm, then followed Palmer out the door.

Gibbs watched them go, waiting until the elevator doors closed behind them. He chuckled softly to himself; Palmer was just too easy. He’d miss Ducky tonight, but between Tony and Abby he thought things would go alright. He decided to take the stairs back up to the bullpen.

 **Another Cold Case Goes Hot**

“DiNozzo!” Gibbs called as he strode back into the bullpen.

“Yeah, Boss!”

“Pull up the file on the Baxter murder.” Gibbs moved over to the plasma screen next to Tony’s desk.

“On it… here we go.” Tony grabbed the remote and moved to stand next to Gibbs. Ziva got up and walked over, standing on Gibbs’ other side, looking at the screen. Tony began summarizing the case.

“Ensign Louis Baxter, found dead in an alley in Norfolk a little less than six months ago, multiple gunshot wounds. No one heard or saw anything. Background check was clean. Nothing to give any clues as to why someone would want him dead.” The screen showed the personnel file picture of a young, clean cut man of mixed race with dark curly hair and dark eyes. Tony hit a button on the remote, and the picture switched to the same man lying in a pool of blood in a dirty alley. “Last seen with Lieutenant Michael Pierce in a bar nearby, which was strange because according to all Baxter’s friends, he and Pierce barely knew each other and didn’t socialize. Pierce was interviewed multiple times by an NCIS agent in Norfolk, but his story seemed to hold up.” The screen now showed a different file photo of the Navy Lieutenant, a stocky man with thin blond hair and blue eyes.

“What was his story?” Ziva asked.

Gibbs broke in. “Claimed he ran into Baxter in the bar, offered him a drink, one Navy guy to another. Didn’t spend much time with him, said Baxter left before he did. Bartender corroborated that much, said the two men spoke together for less than half an hour. Agent in Norfolk who caught the case asked me to come down and interrogate Pierce, felt there was something off. I couldn’t get anywhere with him, and DNA evidence from under Baxter’s nails didn’t match Pierce at the time.”

Ziva’s eyebrows shot up. “At the time?”

Tony took up the thread. “Gibbs had Abby take a second look at the evidence last week; some other analyst did the initial work. Abs found that he missed an anomaly in the sample; she re-ran the DNA and while she didn’t get a match exactly, she can’t rule out Pierce either, so he’s back on the suspect list. Actually, he is the suspect list.”

Gibbs nodded. “And now Abby found something else: carpet fibers on Baxter’s clothing that match a 2008 Mazda CX-9. Baxter didn’t have a car.”

Ziva turned to her desk. “I will get information on Lieutenant Pierce’s vehicle.”

Tony made a move to go back to his desk; Gibbs grabbed his arm. “My office, DiNozzo.” Gibbs led the way to the elevator; Ziva’s attention was mostly on her computer, but she glanced up at Tony and smirked as he walked by. He rolled his eyes at her.

The elevator doors opened right away, and the two men got on. Gibbs hit a button, and as soon as the doors closed he hit the emergency stop. Tony looked at him, amused. “You do realize Ziva thinks we’re making out right now.”

Gibbs smirked. “Unfortunately, no. You were right earlier – new rule 12.”

Tony nodded. “So what’s up, Boss?”

Gibbs looked at Tony. “Abby’s coming tonight, Ducky and Palmer can’t make it; they’re on their way to a conference in Chicago. And I told Palmer Abby won the pool.”

Tony laughed. “That explains the text message he sent me. What made you decide to tell him?”

Gibbs shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. “You and he became friends when I was in Mexico. And he was in on the pool, so it felt wrong to leave him out.”

Tony grinned, and, forgetting for a moment, reached out to squeeze Gibbs’ shoulder. “Nice going, Boss.”

Gibbs gave Tony a pointed look. Tony sighed and dropped his hand. Both men were silent for a moment, then Gibbs spoke up. “This better work, Tony. Abby’s all excited thinking we’re going to be sharing feelings. Not really my thing.”

“Hey,” Tony responded, “it was your idea, Boss. And you’ve been great with the whole sharing feelings thing.”

Gibbs shot Tony a mildly exasperated look. “I’m okay with sharing with you, Tony. Not thrilled about the rest of it. And what do you mean, it was my idea?”

Tony cleared his throat. “Well, yeah, it was originally my idea, but you’re the one who did the whole question with the eyes thing this morning. So you sort of took over my idea, which kind of makes it your idea.”

Gibbs stared at Tony, barely suppressing the smile. Tony shifted around a bit, then reached out again and ran his fingers quickly through Gibbs’ hair. “Sorry, Boss, can’t help it. Look, I’ll do most of the talking, if you want. Just chime in if I get stuff wrong.”

Gibbs nodded. “So what’s up with McGee? I got the impression things didn’t go so well.”

Tony grimaced, leaning back against the wall of the elevator and crossing his arms. “He’s pretty upset, Boss. From what I can tell, he doesn’t want things to change, and he’s pretty resentful that we’ve made this decision. Made one pretty nasty comment, and no, I won’t tell you what he said. Getting angry isn’t going to help. He’s definitely unhappy that we seem to be altering the rules to suit us.”

Gibbs huffed out a breath. He wanted to push Tony to tell him what McGee had said, but he knew Tony was right; he’d get angry, and that wouldn’t help. He looked over at his second in command, and, consciously dropping the Boss persona for a moment, reached out to squeeze his hand. Tony looked at Gibbs, surprised. “Yeah, Jeth?”

Gibbs looked at him seriously. “What do we do if he won’t accept us?”

Tony shifted so he was leaning on the elevator wall on his side, facing Gibbs. “I don’t know. I do know that I said I’d bury this rather than have it affect the team, but that was before…”

“Yeah.” Gibbs looked down at their joined hands. “I could retire. Got enough time in.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “No. Just – no. I can’t imagine you not being here. I don’t want to run a team yet, and I don’t want to work for anyone else.”

“What was that you suggested before? Something about private detectives?”

Tony grinned. “Magnum with a partner. We’d be awesome.”

“So maybe that’s a backup plan.”

Tony’s smile faded. “Way, way back. We’ve got to try fixing things with McGee.”

Gibbs nodded, looking Tony in the eye. He really, really wanted more physical contact, but that way lay breaking up the team. He disentangled their fingers, dropping Tony’s hand, then reached out and hit the emergency stop again. The elevator started moving, and in a few moments they were back in the bullpen.

As soon as they reached their area, Ziva hung up her phone and jumped to her feet. “Lieutenant Pierce drives a 2008 Mazda CX-9, Gibbs. I have called his commanding officer; Pierce is on leave, and he believes him to be traveling in Europe.”

Tony was immediately at his computer. Gibbs and Ziva stood waiting. After a few moments, Tony called out, “Lieutenant Michael Pierce was on a United flight from DC to Paris, France three days ago. From there he took an Air France flight to l’Aeroport Marseille Provence.” He tapped the computer mouse again, then frowned. Looking up at Gibbs, he said, “Boss, he didn’t buy a return ticket.”

Ziva sat back at her desk and grabbed her keyboard. Both agents were typing furiously, in a race to be the first with more information. Ziva crowed triumphantly. “Pierce is booked into a room at the Sofitel Marseille Vieux Port.” Ziva’s accent was much better than Tony’s, who glared at her; she stuck her tongue out at him. “It is very upscale, Gibbs, not where you would expect a Navy Lieutenant to stay.”

Gibbs got a predatory grin on his face. “Good work.” He glanced up toward the Director’s office, then moved to the stairs, motioning for them to stay put.

Tony grinned at Ziva. “Back to France!”

Ziva grinned back. “And this time you’ll be sharing a bed, yes, Tony?”

Tony’s grin turned to a glare. “We’re keeping it out of the office, Ziva.“

Ziva smirked at him. “The office is not in Marseille, Tony.”

They waited. It was taking Gibbs longer than usual to get clearance for the trip overseas. Tony debated calling McGee in early; he was about to pick up the phone when Ziva cleared her throat loudly. He looked over at her; she motioned behind him with her chin and her eyes. Tony turned to look up at the stairs; Gibbs was coming back, and he looked pissed. Both agents made a show of appearing extremely busy as Gibbs stalked back to his desk.

“Ziva! Call the NCIS office in Marseille. Give them all the information on the Baxter case, and have them pick up Pierce and deliver him back stateside.” Gibbs punched angrily at some keys on his computer, stared at his monitor for a moment, then glanced up at his agents, who were staring at him. “Do you need a written invitation, Agent Da-veed?” Ziva shook herself, then grabbed her phone, looking up the number online. It only took a few minutes to get the information out, after which she hung up and sent Tony a disgruntled look.

“Do you suppose we will ever get back in the field again?” she complained. “This is the second time in a week that we have handed our leads off to someone else!”

Tony got up and moved over to stand in front of Ziva’s desk, watching Gibbs out of the corner of his eye. The older man got up as well, and was moving in their direction. “Well, Ziva, I guess the Major Case Response Team is nothing more than glorified dispatchers now. Maybe Gibbs pissed off Vance again – ow, Boss!” The expected head slap had been a little harder than normal.

“Coffee,” Gibbs growled out, as he made for the elevator. He was gone a moment later.

Tony rubbed the back of his head, grinning sheepishly at Ziva, who was studying him intently.

“I thought so,” she finally said.

“What?”

“That you do it on purpose. You goat Gibbs into giving you the head smacks. It is to give him an outlet for his anger, yes?”

Tony shrugged. “Goad, not goat. And not always. But it works, right? Makes him easier to deal with.”

Ziva’s eyes sparkled. “Thank you, Tony. Although I do have to wonder… does it translate into the bedroom?”

Tony winked at her. “You’ll never know, Girl-Probie.”

 **Going for Coffee**

It took a while for Gibbs to return with his coffee, and when he did he took it directly upstairs and into MTAC. Tony and Ziva spent the rest of the morning going through more cold case files. Tony went out around noon to pick up some lunch for the three of them, leaving Gibbs’ food on his desk to have whenever. After eating, Ziva picked up several files and went downstairs to confer with Abby. Left alone in the bullpen, Tony was tempted to play some computer games, but decided Gibbs was a bit too pissed off for him to risk it; he stuck with the files.

McGee arrived just before one. He kept his eyes on his desk as he walked past Tony without a word, starting up his computer and focusing intently on the monitor. Tony took his cue from McGee and stayed silent. He couldn’t help but notice, though, that McGee kept glancing at him. After thirty minutes of furtive looks, Tony couldn’t stand it anymore. “Spit it out, McGee! You’re making me paranoid.”

McGee got up from his desk and walked over to Tony, who turned his chair toward him and sat back. “Look, Tony – I’m sorry about that comment about you and Gibbs. That was out of line.”

“Yeah, it was. Apology accepted anyway.”

“Thanks… can we talk?”

Tony considered that. Gibbs was still up in MTAC, and would be even more pissed if he came back to an empty bullpen. “Yeah, hold on.” Tony got up and went to Gibbs’ desk, grabbing a sticky note. He scribbled on it: _Gone for coffee with McGee. If Ziva’s not here, check with Abby. Call if you need us._ “Okay, McGee, let’s go.”

Just as the two men were about to get on the elevator, Tony caught sight of Gibbs rounding the base of the stairs. Gibbs looked up and saw them; Tony jerked his head toward Gibbs’ desk and held the doors open as McGee stepped on. Gibbs gave him a brief nod, which Tony answered, after which he followed McGee into the elevator.

They walked in silence to the coffee shop, placed their orders, and grabbed a booth at the back. McGee picked at his muffin and wouldn’t meet Tony’s eyes.

“Spit it out, Tim. If we’re out here on Gibbs’ time, we’d better have something to show for it, or we’ll both get head-slapped.”

McGee looked up at that. “You’re kidding. He’s still going to smack you?”

Tony laughed. “Ask Ziva. He gave me a good one today. Of course he’s still going to smack me; I told you, we don’t want anything to change.”

McGee considered that, finally popping a bit of the muffin in his mouth. “So, how could you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Just – be with a guy. With Gibbs! I don’t get it.”

“By ‘be with’ you mean have sex, right?”

McGee glanced at Tony; his ears turned pink. “Well, yeah.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “What, you think we just looked at each other and said, hey, I want a piece of that? That we just tore each other’s clothes off and went at it like bunnies?”

Now McGee’s face turned pink. “No… I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Look, Tim… it’s not about sex. Well, I mean, there is sex, but –“

“Do _not_ give me details, Tony!”

“Wasn’t planning on it, McPrude. What I was going to say, before you went all squeamish, was that sex is a side-effect, not the point.”

“Side-effect of what? Drugs?”

Tony laughed again, louder. “Can you see Gibbs taking drugs? Please. No, side effect of me realizing how important he is to me, and of him feeling the same way about me. Of us trying to figure out what this is. It’s not easy, exactly, but it’s easier than I expected.”

McGee shredded his muffin some more. “But – you’ve always been hot for everything female on two legs.”

“Give me some credit for standards; I wasn’t that bad.”

“What do you mean, wasn’t? Are you saying that you and Gibbs, that you’re…” McGee’s voice trailed off.

“That we’re working on a real relationship and committed to each other? Yeah, I guess I am saying that. Does that make it better or worse?”

McGee huffed out a breath, half laugh, half disbelief. “I have no idea.”

Tony sighed. “Can you handle it, at least for now? I don’t know how much to say; Jeth’s a private person and I’m trying to respect that. We’ll all talk tonight, okay?”

McGee stared at Tony. “You call him Jeth?”

Tony grimaced. “Oops… I’ll have to work on that. We really are trying to keep personal and professional lives separate.”

McGee sat for a moment, thinking. “I’ll try to put it all aside for now. But what about the rules, Tony? Rule 12 just doesn’t matter anymore?”

Tony shrugged and sipped his coffee. “I’m going to let Gibbs field that one… they’re his rules, after all.” He noticed McGee’s jaw tighten. _It’s the rules more than anything else, I think._

Just then, Tony’s cell rang, playing the theme music to the movie Jaws. He flipped it open. “Hey, Boss.” He glanced over at McGee, who seemed amused.

 _“Tony. Everything alright?”_

“Just fine, Boss. For now, anyway. You got some ‘splainin’ to do, Lucy,” Tony said, complete with accent.

McGee spluttered after almost inhaling his coffee.

 _“Funny guy. If you boys can keep your minds on the job, I need you back here, conference room.”_

“On our way.” Tony flipped the phone closed. “Time to head back, McGee. Boss wants to brief us all in the conference room.”

“On what?” They stood, grabbing their coffees, which of course they’d gotten to go, just in case.

“Like he told me? I’ll find out in a few minutes, same as you.”

 **Conference Room**

Tony and McGee entered the conference room to see Gibbs and Ziva already seated and waiting. Gibbs looked up, visually assessing both men. Apparently satisfied, he kept silent until they were all seated at one end of the table. He reached for a stack of files and handed one to each agent. The files were marked ‘Classified.’ As soon as the last file was distributed, Gibbs began speaking.

“There’s a reason we didn’t go after either the rental car killer or Pierce ourselves. I only just got clearance from Vance, or I’d have told you before this.” Here Gibbs looked up, met Tony’s eyes. Tony gave him a half-smile and had the reward of seeing Gibbs’ shoulders relax almost imperceptibly. “Reason I was up in MTAC a good part of last week – Vance and I were running an op, going after one of the higher ups in an arms dealer’s organization based outside of Valencia, in Spain. Dealer’s real name is unknown, code name given by the CIA is Ratero.”

“Petty thief?” Ziva broke in.

“Anything but. His organization is responsible for dozens of homicides and has been linked to several bombings in various parts of Europe. He’s believed to have ties to several terrorist groups as well as drug cartels operating world-wide. Vance brought me in to help target his number two man, goes by the code name of El Zorro.”

“The fox,” Ziva translated.

Gibbs nodded. “Real name, according to the CIA, is Bartolo Vargas. Op we ran last week was meant to isolate, capture, and transport Vargas here to the United States. Vance and I were in charge, but CIA was on the ground, and they screwed up.”

“How many agencies are in on this?” Tony asked.

“CIA and NCIS were handling this part of the op. FBI and ATF are focused on American members here in the US, and NSA and other CIA agents are handling targeting Ratero himself, with various branches of the military. Everything was coordinated to bring down the entire organization, and the update I got today shows they’re in disarray, so we accomplished that much anyway.”

“What did the CIA mess up, Gibbs?” Ziva asked.

“Vargas got away from them, after they had him in custody. CIA believes he either will or has entered the US under a fake passport. They think he’s headed for a stronghold in upstate New York, gonna try to access holdings from there, initiate backup plans to get Ratero out of whatever hole he’s in. We’re on standby to head up that way and help flush him out; we’re just awaiting confirmation that he’s actually in the country. If I had to guess, I’d say there’s no chance of heading out today, possibly not even tomorrow. Can’t tell you why. Spend the rest of the afternoon familiarizing yourselves with these files; there’s as much of the op as I’m authorized to release, along with details on Vargas. Files don’t leave this room, they’re for your eyes only.” Gibbs stood, catching Tony’s eye. “Before you ask, CIA is not in any way handling Ratero. This isn’t like the situation with La Grenouille.”

“Thank god for that,” Tony muttered.

“I’ll be back to answer questions later on,” Gibbs said. “For now, I’ll be in MTAC.” He left the room, shutting the door behind him.

The next few hours passed in a blur of studying and brainstorming. After they each went through the files – which were two inches thick, and that was only what Gibbs was allowed to tell them – Ziva and Tony started brainstorming potential pitfalls based on the information they had on Vargas and the blueprints of the stronghold and the surrounding area. McGee focused on the paper trail, getting permission from Vance to bring in a laptop and start doing electronic sleuthing, digging beyond the information in the files. When Gibbs returned, he was bombarded with questions and given a host of possible approaches to the problem. After another couple of hours of discussion, he collected the files and the laptop, calling it a day. Looking at his team, he spoke up. “This is why we were chosen for this op. You are collectively the best team I’ve had the privilege to work with.” He walked out of the room, leaving three open-mouthed agents staring after him.

After a moment, Ziva looked at Tony. “I hate to say it, Tony, but you may actually be good for him.”

Tony looked back, eyes wide. “I can’t imagine what I’ve done that could prompt something like _that_.”

“Are you sure, Tony?” Ziva’s tone was suggestive.

“Guys,” McGee said, “knock it off.”

Ziva immediately became contrite. “I apologize McGee. Tony has said they are keeping it out of the office, and I stuck my boot in it.”

“Foot, Ziva.” McGee replied. “It’s bad enough we have to talk about it later on… I really don’t want to hear about it now.”

Deciding he’d heard enough, Tony walked out of the room. McGee went to follow, but Ziva grabbed his arm and pulled. She swung in front of him, closing the conference room door. Then she turned to face him, completely disregarding his personal space. “What is your problem, McGee? I did not think you had a problem with men loving men, but now I am starting to wonder! They are opening up about their relationship because they want the team to stay together, and you seem to want to sabotage it.”

“I don’t know, Ziva!” McGee leaned back against the large table. “I’m not homophobic, not at all. It just makes me angry, and I’m not sure why.”

Ziva looked at him closely. “Do you doubt your place on the team, McGee?”

McGee ran his hands over his face. “I don’t know. Maybe. It took me a long time to get comfortable, and now it feels like I have to start all over again.”

“That would seem to be your problem, not theirs. I suggest you hear them out tonight, and try to put your own insecurities aside. Let them explain before you hop to conclusions.”

“Jump, Ziva, not hop. And do you really think we’re still doing this tonight, with this op coming up?”

Ziva stepped back and looked at him seriously. “I think we must. Tell me, McGee, do you trust Gibbs and Tony to have your back?”

McGee straightened up. “Of course!”

“The way you are acting, they must wonder if you do. And do you think they are certain that you have theirs, right now?”

McGee actually turned pale at that. “Ziva, I would never, not ever –“

“Then, McGee, I suggest you make sure they know that.” That said, Ziva turned, opened the door, and swept out of the room. After a moment of reflection, McGee cursed quietly and followed.

McGee found Ziva on the landing above the bullpen, looking down at Tony and Gibbs. He looked too. Tony appeared to be upset, and Gibbs looked worried. He saw Gibbs reach out to Tony, hesitate, and let his arm fall to his side.

“I have never seen Gibbs look like that,” Ziva said quietly.

McGee felt some sort of knot inside give way. He wasn’t sure he’d even known it was there. “I don’t think he’s being Gibbs right now.”

Ziva looked at him quizzically. “If he is not being Gibbs, who is he being?”

McGee looked at her seriously. “Tony calls him Jeth.”

Ziva searched McGee’s eyes, then smiled. “That is good to know, McGee.”

They descended the stairs, reaching the bullpen in time to see Tony get on the elevator. Gibbs was still there, his expression unreadable as he looked at McGee. McGee looked back, then walked up to him and quietly said, “I’m sorry, Boss. Will you tell Tony that?”

Gibbs looked at him for a moment. “You still coming to the house later?”

McGee and Ziva both affirmed that they were.

Gibbs nodded. “Tell him yourself.” He moved toward the elevator. “See you soon.”

McGee and Ziva looked at each other, then moved to get their things and leave.


	11. Trying To Make It Right With The Team

**Getting Ready for Dinner**

Tony lay stretched out on the couch in his apartment, head propped on the arm, dreading the upcoming team dinner. _I was fine with it, really I was… until Probie’s latest display of peevishness in the conference room._ He’d thought they’d made some progress when they went out for coffee, and then worked so well together on the upcoming op. It was all so confusing, since Tony didn’t really know for sure what McGee’s problem was _. Am I overreacting? What Probie had said in the conference room wasn’t so bad, was it?_ But when put together with some of the other comments he’d made earlier, especially in their e-mail conversation… it just added up to something that made Tony nervous.

Tony thought back to that second evening at Gibbs’ place, when they’d had pizza, and Tony had said the team had to come first. _That was before I felt so connected to him, before I knew I could care like this._ They hadn’t gotten very far into this new relationship, and now the tension in the team was threatening to bring it to a premature end. _The way I feel about Jethro now, any end would be premature._

Tony shifted uncomfortably on the couch. _Would I have avoided getting involved with Gibbs if I’d known McGee would react this way? Yeah, probably._ _Now, though – I’m dedicated to the team, I really am, but I don’t think I can just give up on what Jethro and I have started. Huh, funny how sometimes I think of him as Gibbs, sometimes as Jethro._

Tony thought about what happened in the bullpen just after he left the conference room. Gibbs had immediately seen that something was wrong…

 _Tony walked quickly out of the conference room, heading for the stairs. He was dimly aware of Ziva saying something to McGee in an urgent tone of voice, but, uncharacteristically, he had no interest in listening in. He just wanted to get out of there, try to understand how things were going wrong so fast when in another way they were going so right. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he moved to his desk with unusual efficiency, not glancing around the bullpen at all. He supposed he must have used a bit more force than usual opening his desk drawer to grab his ID and weapon when he heard Gibbs’ voice – “Tony? What’s wrong?”_

 _He looked up to see Gibbs coming around the corner of his own desk, concern obvious on his face. Tony swallowed… he wanted to explain, but he didn’t want to make things worse by getting Gibbs angry with McGee, so he kept quiet. Gibbs came over to the side of Tony’s desk, eyes searching his face for a moment before he said, “McGee said something, didn’t he?” Tony shrugged, holstering his gun and pocketing his ID before moving around the opposite side of his desk from where Gibbs was standing. He looked over at Gibbs, giving him a half-smile and not quite meeting his eyes, saying, “Nothing I can’t handle, Boss. I’m probably overreacting anyway. See you later for dinner, okay?” He started to walk toward the elevator, but stopped when he heard Gibbs speak in a tone he had never heard before. “Tony, please…”_

 _Wow. Tony had to look Gibbs in the eye, see his pained expression. “Look, Boss –“ A quick glance around, then Tony continued. “- Jeth - it’s just – I feel as if the team’s starting to unravel, and it’s my fault. If I’d kept my mouth shut…“_

 _Gibbs shook his head. “Not your fault, Tony. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. As team leader I should have shut us down before we started. Rule 12, original version. But I didn’t, and I don’t want to take it back now.” Gibbs’ eyes held Tony’s, who didn’t think he could look away if he tried. But trying seemed out of the question anyway. Gibbs continued, “We’ll do our damndest to make it right, Tony.” Gibbs paused and sighed. “And if we can’t, if that’s impossible… we’ll figure it out, somehow. I meant what I said the other day – we’re in this together.” Gibbs reached out to Tony, hesitated, and let his arm fall to his side. He looked frustrated, jaw tightening as he held himself back from making physical contact. He looked seriously into Tony’s eyes. “Stay tonight, after dinner?” Tony nodded, rendered speechless by the complete lack of an order in Gibbs’ words… the man was clearly asking, not telling. For just a second, Tony let his conflicted feelings show in his eyes, telling Gibbs everything he couldn’t say in words there in the middle of the office, then turned and headed for the elevator._

Tony looked down at his watch… he needed to leave soon if he were to have some time alone with Gibbs before the others got there. Remembering helped; he felt a bit more centered and less like everything was falling apart. He got up, went into the bedroom to get clothes to bring to Gibbs’ place, and within a few minutes was walking out to his car.

Tony made it to Gibbs’ house well before anyone else was supposed to get there. He walked in and heard Gibbs doing something in the kitchen. He called out a greeting as he went up the stairs to drop his bag off in the bedroom. After leaving his pack on the chair in the corner, he went into the bathroom and checked his reflection in the mirror. _Tired_ , he thought. He hadn’t slept much the night before; he missed Jethro too much. And then today had been stressful, of course... Tony checked his hair and combed his fingers through it, trying to get it the way he wanted.

“Let me do that for you.” Jethro came up behind Tony and grasped his hand lightly, squeezing his fingers and moving his hand down. Their eyes met in the mirror. Jethro let go of Tony’s hand and moved both his own hands up to Tony’s head, running his fingers through Tony’s hair and starting a light massage. Tony groaned softly and leaned back into it. Jethro nuzzled into Tony’s neck, kissing him lightly. “Niiiice,” Tony purred. “Let’s cancel dinner and go to bed.” He opened his eyes and looked hopefully at Jethro’s in the mirror. Jethro looked back at him and gave him a wide smile, then leaned in again and nipped Tony’s neck gently. He stepped back a bit and ruffled Tony’s hair, then dropped his hands to his sides.

“No can do, Tony. We need to clear this up… could be heading into a dangerous situation within the next couple of days.” He leaned forward and whispered in Tony’s ear, “And I want us to go to bed tonight with no distractions.” Tony shivered. Jethro clapped him on the back and turned to go back downstairs. Tony watched him in the mirror, then shifted his gaze back to his hair – which was now a complete mess.

After fighting with his hair, Tony joined Gibbs in the kitchen. Gibbs had ordered in from a local diner that served excellent food, and everything was ready to go. He was carrying things out to dining room, setting the table, getting things ready since the team should be showing up any minute. Gibbs looked over at him. “Wanna get the mugs out of the freezer?” Tony did so, then watched as Gibbs put the last of the food on plates and put them in the oven to stay warm. There was nothing left to do after that, so when Gibbs leaned back against the kitchen counter and drank some beer, Tony walked over next to him and leaned back too. He laced his fingers through Gibbs’, looking down at their joined hands. “You ready for this, Jeth?”

Gibbs shrugged. “Not comfortable, but it’s necessary. We have to get this cleared up before tomorrow.”

Tony looked up at him. “Have they found Vargas?”

Gibbs shook his head. “Not yet, but his options are limited. Assets are frozen, and the other strongholds are under heavy surveillance or actual military occupation. The New York house is the only one left that isn’t obviously being guarded.”

“So the trap is set,” Tony mused. “Think they’ll send us up there to try to get ahead of him?”

“It’s possible. I’m thinking we’ll get in to work a bit later than usual, in case they do send us out. We’ll be short on sleep once this starts. We’ll spend time at work making plans; you all had some good ideas today. I want to build on that.”

Tony nodded, then glanced over at Gibbs. “Hey, speaking of today… what brought on the compliment? You’re not, you know, dying or anything, are you?”

Gibbs laughed. “Not at all, Tony. I just thought it needed to be said, given the transition we’re in as a team. Thought McGee needed to hear it.”

Tony smiled at him. “I know I liked hearing it, Jeth.” Tony leaned forward and kissed Jethro lightly on the lips. The older man hummed a bit in appreciation and moved his hand up to the back of Tony’s head, bringing him back in for another kiss. After a few minutes of kissing and nibbling, Tony tried to pull back, only to have Jethro’s hold on him strengthen. He tried to say something to the effect that they should stop since the others would be there any moment, but the attempt only got him a mouthful of eager tongue. Tony got a sudden mental image of opening his eyes to see their guests standing in the kitchen, watching. He started to laugh a bit, imagining their reactions, and then he poked Jethro hard in the side.

Jethro pulled back, startled and somewhat indignant. “What was that for?!”

Tony cautiously opened his eyes and glanced around. No guests. Focusing on Jethro, he shot him a winning smile. “Abby would be thrilled to catch us in the act, you know.”

Jethro narrowed his eyes, looking at Tony, then moved into his space, linking his hands together behind Tony’s back and pulling the younger man against him. “Abby isn’t here right now.” That said, he moved in again, kissing Tony passionately. He ran his tongue along Tony’s lips and explored the inside of his mouth. Tony groaned and gave in, caressing Jethro’s back with one hand while bringing the other down to his ass, squeezing and pulling the older man hard against him. Jethro’s sudden intake of breath, along with a whisper of “Tony” was enough to remind both of them that they really were about to put on one hell of an X-rated show if this continued. They both pulled back, looking into each other’s eyes and smiling. Jethro reached up and smoothed Tony’s hair, while Tony gave his ass a pat and moved to step back, straightening Jethro’s shirt as he did so.

They stepped apart as they heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. “Hi guys! I hope you aren’t decent!”

Both men rolled their eyes at each other. “In the kitchen, Abs,” Gibbs called out.

Abby bounced her way into the kitchen, short skirt flouncing as she came up to the two men and hugged them both. “This is so awesome. It’s great that you’re doing this, you’ll see.”

Tony gave her a half smile as she pulled away. Gibbs started to say something, and then the doorbell rang as the door opened and they could hear Ziva call out, “Gibbs?” Abby turned and ran out of the room. Tony and Gibbs looked at each other, eyebrows raised. “We could just let Abby do all the talking,” Tony suggested. Gibbs smirked at him, reaching out to caress the back of Tony’s neck and give him a little shake. They heard McGee’s voice join in the conversation in the other room, so they turned and headed out of the kitchen.

 **Food and Conversation**

Greetings were exchanged all around, and offerings of food and drinks accepted. Abby had brought a cake that she put in the kitchen. Ziva and McGee had each brought different six-packs of beer from different microbreweries, each claiming that theirs was better. No one else was familiar with either one, so they all agreed on a taste-test, with Ziva’s beer to be sampled first. As Ziva and Abby stood at the kitchen counter pouring beer into frosty mugs, McGee approached Tony where he stood next to Gibbs. Clearing his throat somewhat self-consciously, McGee said, “Hey Tony, can I talk to you for a minute?” Tony nodded, and the two men headed into the living room, Gibbs watching them leave with a concerned expression on his face.

McGee fidgeted for a moment, picking up a few knick-knacks sitting on the bookshelves without really seeing them. Tony stood quietly, hands in his pockets, watching him. Finally he straightened and turned toward Tony. “Look,” he said, “I really am sorry about what I said in the conference room, and what I wrote in those e-mails. You need to know that I don’t want the team to break up or anything, and I don’t have any problem with you and Gibbs being together.”

Tony’s eyebrows rose. “The first, I’ll believe. The second, not so much.”

McGee grimaced. “Yeah, me neither. It was worth a try, though, right?”

Tony snorted. “A more convincing one, maybe. Seriously, Tim, what’s your problem with us? Is it that it’s two guys together, or that it’s me and Gibbs together? Or just me?”

McGee’s head shot up at that. “Tony, it’s not you. And it’s not that you’re both guys.”

Tony frowned. “So it’s Gibbs?”

McGee shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. And me, too.”

Tony ran his hand through his hair. “Now I’m just confused.” He looked over at McGee. “I figured it was me you had a problem with, that maybe you thought Gibbs deserved better.”

McGee stared at Tony, then snorted. “Please, Tony. Who else tries so hard with him? And no one watches that man’s six better than you do… if he lets you, that is.”

Tony tilted his head. “True, McGenius. And we’ve talked about that… he’s going to keep us more in the loop from now on, which should make that easier.”

Now McGee’s eyebrows went up. “That would make you a miracle worker, Tony. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

They looked at each other for a moment, then started speaking at the same time.

McGee: “So how long –“

Tony: “What did you –“

They laughed, then Tony gestured for McGee to continue.

“So how long have you guys been… seeing each other?”

Tony sighed. “We should probably save all that for everyone, so we don’t have to repeat it. But it’s been, what… a week?”

McGee looked surprised. “I’d have thought longer. How come you’re sharing so soon?”

Tony looked up at McGee from where he’d been contemplating the floor. “I don’t think we would be, but Ziva figured it out and said something to you, and you freaked. So we’re sharing so that no one freaks any more. Hopefully, anyway.”

Abby poked her head around the doorway. “Hey, you guys ready to eat? Gibbs is getting growly.”

Tony grinned and shook his head. Both men walked into the kitchen where everyone was getting plates out of the oven and getting ready to carry as much as possible out to the table. Abby was the first one out, and Tony and Gibbs could hear her directing Ziva and McGee as they followed her. Gibbs turned to look at Tony, assessing him. Tony smirked. “I’m fine, Jeth. McGee and I made a start clearing things up.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. There’s more to talk about though… he said he doesn’t have a problem with two guys together, or with me, but he does have a problem with you, and I guess by extension with us specifically. Also that he has a problem with himself, or something I didn’t get.”

Gibbs quirked an eyebrow at him, but grabbed his beer and plate and headed out to the dining room. Tony did the same, but was brought up short when he saw the seating arrangements Abby had dictated. Gibbs was setting his plate down at the head of the table; McGee was next to him on his left, with Ziva next to him, then Abby across from her. Which left Tony with the empty chair on Gibbs’ right. Which was fine, except that Tony realized he and Gibbs hadn’t talked about how they wanted to act in front of the team, which left Tony feeling a bit uncertain. He realized Gibbs was starting at him questioningly, so he shook himself a bit and moved to the empty seat.

Conversation stayed light while they ate, discussion centering about the Vargas case at first. Gibbs told them all not to report to work until eleven the next morning; he wanted everyone well-rested in case they had to get up to New York; there was no telling when they’d get a decent night’s sleep once the op started. After Ziva’s beer was pronounced the better of the two microbrews by everyone except Ziva herself, which led to some teasing, McGee filled everyone in on the rental car killer; he’d been followed and apprehended while trying to force a young female petty officer into his latest rental car. He was currently locked up in New Orleans, and would most likely be transferred to the DC office within the week, after the investigation into his latest activities was wrapped up. Ziva then reported that an Agent Davies had called her from Marseille; Lieutenant Pierce had been picked up during a raid on a bar thought to be involved in selling cocaine. It turned out Pierce had been delivering a shipment of the drug to the local distributors. He would be escorted back to DC once that investigation wrapped up as well, so it looked like Gibbs’ team would have plenty to do after the Vargas case was dealt with.

After the case updates were discussed and the main course finished, Abby, who had apparently decided she was running things, jumped to her feet and started clearing the table. Everyone got up to help, but Gibbs and Tony sat back down when Abby decreed that they were the hosts and therefore the guests would clean up. Ziva said she could have sworn it was supposed to be the other way around, which prompted a lively discussion as the forensics expert and the two agents cleaned up and brought out the cake and plates. While they were arguing, Gibbs reached out for Tony’s hand, which was sitting on top of the table, fiddling with his remaining silverware. He gently pulled the fork out of Tony’s hand, lacing the fingers of his own right hand through those of Tony’s left, and leaving their joined hands sitting on top of the table. Tony squeezed Gibbs’ hand, then tried to extricate himself when he heard the others coming back from the kitchen, but Gibbs refused to let go and wouldn’t move his hand at all. Tony glared at Gibbs, who looked back at him steadily. “Not hiding in my own home, Tony,” Gibbs whispered softly. Tony sighed and sat back a bit, giving in.

Abby set the cake down on the table, smiling broadly as she caught sight of their hands. She kept quiet about it though, apparently continuing a story she must have started in the kitchen. Ziva paused in the middle of asking a question when she spotted the physical contact between the two men, but covered well and offered them a smile. McGee glanced at their hands as he sat back down, but said nothing, shifting his gaze away and keeping his eyes on the cake or on Abby after that.

Cake cut and pieces distributed, they all picked up forks and dug in. Gibbs handled eating left-handed very well, which surprised no one.

“So, Gibbs and Tony,” Ziva said, after swallowing some cake, “I wish to congratulate you. I think the two of you are a good match.”

“Thanks, Ziva,” Gibbs responded. Tony favored her with a bright smile.

She looked at them curiously. “How long has it been? I believe Abby said not long.”

Gibbs glanced at Tony, who took the hint and answered, “Only about a week.”

Ziva nodded. “I would have thought longer, but it does not matter.”

Abby broke in, “So how did it start? A week ago we were wrapping up that case with the missing tv reporter.”

Tony sighed, then looked at Gibbs again, trying to get a hint of how much to say. All three of their guests were looking at him now, obviously awaiting an answer. Gibbs looked back at Tony, giving him a slight shrug and a hint of a smile. Tony huffed a bit… no real help there. He squeezed Gibbs’ hand anyway, before answering. “I was pretty messed up about Dana, remember?” He looked over at Ziva and McGee, who both nodded. “So I ended up over here, in the basement, after she died in the hospital. Talked things out with Gibbs, and somewhere along the way I made it clear that Gibbs meant a lot to me. Didn’t mean to, it just came out. And Gibbs –“ he shot Gibbs a mock glare, but the older man just smirked at him – “had to analyze what I meant. So, the next night I’m making all kinds of confessions to Abby, and the night after that, over pizza and baseball, well… the rest is sort of private.”

To his surprise, Gibbs took up the story. “We spent this past weekend together, and it turns out we just fit.”

Abby cut in. “Oh, you so do! And I can prove it.” She jumped up from the table and ran to her bag, which she’d left near the door. She pulled out her laptop as the others all stared at her, and carried it back to the table, flipping it open and punching some keys as she sat down. She sat back as she grinned at the screen, then looked over at Gibbs. “I win the award for Most Sneaky, Gibbs!” Gibbs and Tony looked at her, then at each other; Tony looked slightly panicked, and even Gibbs looked a bit worried. “Abby,” Tony began, trying to disentangle his hand from Gibbs’ and reach for the laptop. She simply scooted it away from him, and grinned. “I was going to give this whole presentation with data and everything, to show this is a good thing. But I think this will be much more effective!” She turned the laptop around so that everyone could see the screen.

Ziva gasped and laughed a bit, then turned to look at Tony and Gibbs, giving them a decidedly lascivious smirk. Abby just looked proud. McGee stared at the screen, expressionless. Gibbs and Tony both turned slightly red, then Tony groaned, pushed his dessert plate aside, and let his head fall to the table. Gibbs just stared at the picture on the screen.

It was of him and Tony, in the kitchen, locked in that passionate embrace right after he’d said Abby wasn’t there. Apparently Abby was, and Gibbs had been too wrapped up in Tony, literally, to notice. They were standing flush against each other; Gibbs’ hands were locked around Tony’s waist, Tony’s hand was on Gibbs’ ass, both of their eyes were closed – and that kiss was clearly anything but a simple peck on the lips.

Abby reached over and hit a key; a different picture came up, this one of the two of them grinning happily at each other, looking into each other’s eyes, just before they separated.

Gibbs looked thoughtfully at the picture, then over at Abby, whose expression was now a combination of pride and happiness tinged with a small part of apprehension. “Nice, Abs. I suppose the door opening and closing was just a cover?”

Abby nodded, then started to explain. “You both looked so relaxed and happy, Gibbs! I thought if the others could see that, they’d understand and be okay with it.”

Ziva chimed in. “I think it is beautiful. And you do look happy; you are obviously very connected to each other. Mazel tov, Gibbs, Tony.” She shot a wicked look over to Abby. “And the pool had nothing to do with this, correct?”

Abby narrowed her eyes, then smiled. “Only a bit.”

Gibbs was absently rubbing the back of Tony’s hand with his thumb, looking at the picture. He reached over and hit a key, going back to the first one. “Hey, Abs.”

She looked at him with her version of Bambi eyes. “Please don’t fire me, Gibbs!”

He snorted. “Not likely. These are good pictures. You can repay us for being sneaky by giving us nice framed copies.”

Abby’s face lit up. “Awesome, Gibbs!! I’d love to! You’ll have them by the end of the week, I promise.”

Tony raised his head up from the table. He considered the picture of them kissing. “We do look pretty hot,” he commented. Then he looked over at McGee, who was still staring expressionlessly at the picture. _No, not expressionless… he looks pissed._ “McGee?”

McGee looked at Tony, then at Gibbs. He gestured at the screen. “So rule 12 doesn’t matter if it’s you, is that it?”

Gibbs sat up, startled. He considered McGee a moment; the young man was looking at him challengingly, sitting a bit forward, meeting his eyes. He felt a brief flash of pride over McGee’s courage, but shoved it down to focus on his next words, which he felt he needed to choose carefully. “I made rule 12 after two agents getting involved ruined both their personal and working relationships. In that situation, it was the right thing, because it interfered with their working relationship even years later.”

Ziva leaned forward, glanced at McGee, then said, “You are referring to you and Jenny, yes?”

Gibbs glanced at her and nodded. He looked back at McGee, who was listening, though still obviously unhappy. “Getting involved with Jenny was a mistake, but I didn’t see that at the time.”

“Why was it a mistake, Gibbs?” This from Abby, who kept looking between Gibbs and McGee.

Gibbs considered that, staring into space for a few moments, clearly more in the past than in the present. Tony, his hand still in Gibbs’, squeezed Gibbs’ fingers lightly. Gibbs looked over at him and smiled softly. He looked at each of the others in turn, his gaze lingering longest on McGee, who was still looking back at him intently. “Jenny… she was ambitious. She wanted to do things a certain way, and I didn’t always agree with her. Our working relationship messed with our personal lives, and the other way around too.”

There was silence while everyone remembered Gibbs’ often contentious relationship with their former Director.

Ziva broke the silence. “I remember, when we worked together in Europe… she would sometimes sacrifice prudence for a big payoff.”

Gibbs nodded. “And sometimes it backfired. We had some pretty loud fights over that. Something that wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t been involved. I lost my objectivity; I also lost her respect for my leadership.”

Ziva looked at Tony for a long moment. He met her eyes. After a moment she nodded, and, turning to Gibbs, said, “You and Tony have worked together for a long time; you know each other well, you know you will not lose his respect, you know his priorities are the same as yours. That’s why you think this can work.”

Gibbs looked back at her. “Yeah. Might not seem like it sometimes, but Tony’s a lot like me. Like I used to be, anyway.”

Tony smiled at him. “Aw, Jeth, I’m gonna get all choked up here.”

Gibbs reached over with his left hand and swatted Tony lightly on the side of his head. Tony immediately swatted him back, to the surprise of everyone else at the table. Even McGee smiled at that. Abby turned to McGee and crowed, “Told ya!” Ziva laughed, delighted. Gibbs chuckled at their reactions, reaching out again to ruffle Tony’s hair. Tony made a production out of swatting his hand away, saying, “Not the hair, Jeth!”

Gibbs grinned at him, then turned back to McGee. “So we’re giving it a try. Want it to be something real, not a fling. Don’t want it to mess with the team, so we’re keeping it out of the office.” He paused, looking around the table. “I’ve amended rule 12… never date a coworker if you can’t keep it out of the office and from affecting the team. Applies to everyone, not just me and Tony.”

McGee abruptly pushed back from the table, and headed into the living room. The others all exchanged glances, then got up to follow. Gibbs and Tony let go of each other’s hands as they reached the next room. McGee was standing at the window, looking out into the street. The tension in his back was clearly visible. Abby went up to him. “Timmy?”

McGee took a deep breath, then turned and took a step toward Gibbs. “Do you have any idea what I gave up for rule 12, Gibbs?” He looked at Tony. “Do you?” There was no answer, although they all had their suspicions. McGee turned to Abby. “When you broke it off between us, I didn’t try too hard to get you to change your mind. You know why?”

Abby shook her head, eyes wide.

“Because of him, and his rules!” McGee pointed toward Gibbs. “Because I was having such a hard time feeling like I fit on the team, and I thought about the rules, and I thought if I made sure to follow them, things would get easier. So I did. I gave you up, Abby… I loved you, so much. I wanted us to have a real future together, but I didn’t fight for you because I also wanted to measure up; I wanted to be what Gibbs wanted me to be, and I thought that meant following rule 12. And now, I find out rule 12 doesn’t really matter so much, after all. Turns out that our boss, who I really looked up to, whose code I believed in, changes the rules to suit himself, and that really stings.” He turned to Gibbs, taking a few more steps toward him. “So I’m on the outside looking in again.”

Gibbs stood tall, facing McGee. “Why do you say that, Tim?” he asked quietly.

McGee shook his head. “What happens if you and Tony don’t make it? You can be a bear to deal with on a good day, Gibbs. And what’s it going to be like at work if Tony gets his feelings hurt? He’s always craved your attention, so what’s to say this isn’t going to make him even more difficult to live with? I don’t want to go back to the days of getting superglued to my keyboard, or having all sorts of practical jokes pulled on me so our resident frat boy can feel better about himself.”

One look at Tony’s face, which to Gibbs clearly showed the hurt his friend and lover was trying to mask, and Gibbs felt the anger building. McGee was still talking, disregarding both Abby’s and Ziva’s attempts to get him to stop. “And what happens in the field, if someone gets hurt? We could all be at risk if one of you loses control because the other’s in trouble. How can we trust that you won’t leave us vulnerable?”

Having his sense of duty to his team questioned did not sit well with Gibbs. He moved forward, getting in McGee’s face. McGee, to his credit, didn’t back up at all. Furious, Gibbs stared at his junior agent, who swallowed nervously but still didn’t back down. “Are you questioning my dedication to my team?” Gibbs snarled more than spoke.

Tony stepped up to Gibbs’ side, and carefully put his hand on Gibbs’ shoulder. “Hey, Jeth. Come on over here and talk to me. Please?”

Gibbs gave himself a little shake, and, still glaring at McGee, allowed Tony to lead him away into the next room.

 **The Talk in the Living Room**

McGee turned to the couch and sank down onto it, head in his hands. Someone sat next to him – Abby, he realized – and put her arm around his shoulders. He was aware of Ziva sitting on the coffee table in front of him. He sighed. “I really screwed up just now, didn’t I?”

Abby dropped her head onto his shoulder and gave him a squeeze. He looked up at Ziva, who looked at him seriously, then shook her head. “Not entirely, McGee. Yes, you made two bad choices, but the questions you asked were otherwise legitimate ones.”

McGee nodded. “I shouldn’t have insulted Tony.”

“No, you should not have. He is your friend, and he did not deserve it. And it only made Gibbs angry. But more than that… McGee, have you forgotten that Gibbs is a Marine? ‘Semper Fi’ means everything to him, and you just accused him of it meaning nothing. This team, Abby, Ducky, even Palmer… we are his family now. His loyalty is to all of us, not just to Tony. To question that… have you learned nothing of the man in your years of working with him? You told me earlier today that you knew they would back you up in the field. Were you lying to me, McGee?”

McGee shook his head. “No, Ziva, I wasn’t. I don’t know why I said that.”

Ziva looked him in the eye. “I do. You are allowing your own insecurities to mess with your head, to create doubts where there should be none. You are doing exactly what you accused Tony of doing, allowing a need for attention to cause problems with the team. I told you that your insecurities are your own problem; you should face up to them, not let them dictate your actions.”

McGee nodded, then gently disengaged from Abby enough to sit back on the couch. “Thanks, Ziva.” He turned to look at Abby, whose eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Abs,” he said, then stopped, because he didn’t know what else to say.

Abby looked at him, then gave him a hug. “We’ll talk, Timmy, soon. But in the meantime –“ She leaned back and smacked him upside the head, hard.

“Abby, ow!”

“How could you, Timmy? How could you think even for a minute that Gibbs would leave you hanging in the field. He would never do that. Not ever. And if he could, it would have happened by now, don’t you think?”

McGee rubbed his head, glaring at her. Ziva smirked at him. He included her in the glare before looking back at Abby. “I don’t get that, Abs. Why would it have happened by now?”

Abby rolled her eyes. “Because Tony and Gibbs have loved each other practically since they met. I don’t know if they’ve really been _in_ love all this time, but the love, yeah, it was there. They’ve been connected since day one, which is why this makes so much sense and why you should know that they’ll have your back, ‘cause they always have.”

“Excuse me for thinking that them sleeping together changes things, Abby. I’m willing to see how things go, but until I know for sure, I think you can allow me a few doubts.”

Abby stared at him, chewing her lip.

“What?” he asked.

She sighed. “You really shouldn’t blame Gibbs for the whole rule 12 thing, Timmy. That was sort of my fault… actually, more than sort of. I knew you were worried about it, so I talked to Gibbs, and he said it didn’t really apply to us ‘cause I wasn’t a field agent. I just forgot to tell you why you shouldn’t worry – well, not so much forgot as wasn’t sure I should, ‘cause you were getting so serious and I wasn’t ready for that, and then we broke up, so it didn’t seem like I needed to tell you anymore.” She looked away, then back at him. “I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice.

McGee stared at her for a moment, then threw himself back on the couch. He stared up at the ceiling and sighed. “Great, so now I look like an idiot. Gibbs has got to hate me.”

Abby shook her head. “Tony will talk him out of it, you’ll see.” McGee gave her a skeptical look. “Hey, I was right about Tony getting away with head-slapping Gibbs, wasn’t I?”

 **The Talk in the Kitchen**

As soon as they reached the kitchen, Gibbs strode up to the wall and slammed the palm of his hand against it, hard. Tony grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him away from the wall, turning him around and wrapping him up in a protective hug.

“Easy, Jeth. Knock it off, or you won’t be able to use those hands on me later.”

That got a small laugh out of Gibbs, who hugged Tony back after a moment. He turned his face into Tony’s neck, breathing in deeply. He’d noticed that Tony’s scent had a calming effect on him, so he used it now. As angry as he was, he knew he needed to relax and let it go before talking with the rest of the team again.

Tony held on to Gibbs, rubbing his back soothingly. “So,” he asked, “what do we do now?”

Gibbs thought about that for a moment, then laughed. “Ducky had a great idea,” he said.

Tony pulled back to look Gibbs in the face. “When was this?”

Gibbs stepped back and leaned against the kitchen counter. “Last week, when I first went to talk to him about the possibility of you and me getting together.”

“Okay. So what was this great idea?”

Gibbs looked at Tony and smiled. “He thought we might sail off around the world together.”

Tony grinned. “I like it! Maybe we could find some deserted little island somewhere, hang out on the beach, have sex on the beach…”

Gibbs shook his head fondly at Tony. “Sex on sand is literally a pain in the ass, Tony. In other places, too.”

Tony sighed. “I guess we have to go for option two, then.”

Gibbs cocked his head. “And that would be…”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “We go back in there and talk to McGee, get things worked out.”

Gibbs sighed. “Yeah.” He looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath, then looked back at Tony. “I’m going to have to talk about feelings, aren’t I?”

Tony suppressed a smile. “Might help.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Gibbs pushed off the counter, muttering as he walked past Tony. “Damn, I really hate this.”

Tony wanted to live, so he tried really hard not to laugh. Gibbs caught him not laughing anyway, and stopped to look at him, brow furrowed. “How come you’re not more upset? You weren’t exactly happy out there, you know.”

Tony shrugged. “You’re upset, so you need me to talk you out of killing McGee. If you want, I can be upset later, and you can make me feel better.” He waggled his eyebrows at Gibbs, who smiled. Both men turned to go back to the living room.

 **The Second Talk in the Living Room**

As soon as Tony and Gibbs entered the room, McGee jumped up to his feet. Before he could say anything, Gibbs held up a hand and motioned for him to sit back down. McGee shifted on his feet and started to speak again; Gibbs pointed at him, then at the couch, and said, “Sit.” McGee sat.

Gibbs walked over to the coffee table, standing and looking at his team. Abby and Ziva sat on the couch on either side of McGee. Tony stood off to one side, almost exactly in between the couch and where Gibbs stood. Gibbs raised an eyebrow at the strategic location; Tony just gave him an innocent look. Gibbs sighed and cleared his throat, looking at McGee, Abby and Ziva.

“I’m probably only going to say all this to all of you just this once.”

They all nodded and looked attentive. He saw that Abby had her fingers crossed, for luck, he supposed. That made him smile a bit. He looked at McGee. “I guess I owe you an apology, Tim. I never meant for rule 12 to come between you and Abby, because you aren’t out in the field together, and if you ever had been, your job would have been to protect her anyway. I should have made that clear to you when I knew you were dating. So… I’m sorry.”

McGee’s jaw dropped. Abby smiled at Gibbs, her eyes a bit bright. Ziva gave him a small smile as well. A glance at Tony showed his senior agent beaming at him. _That seems to have gone well._ “I also owe you all an apology for starting this whole thing. I could have, and probably should have, let the subject drop when Tony and I first talked about it. As team lead, I should have let it go, not pushed for answers, shouldn’t have started something with my senior field agent. I know that breaking my own rules looks bad, but… I’m human, and far from perfect.” He looked at Tony; their eyes locked for just a bit too long, and he heard Abby give a little sigh. He rolled his eyes. “That said….” He paused, staring at the wall behind the couch. _I really don’t want to do this._ “This… connection, relationship, whatever you want to call it, that Tony and I have started… it’s the closest I’ve come to feeling... ah, hell. Look, even though I should, I won’t give him up. Not sure I could. If anyone wants a transfer because of that, I’ll give you an excellent recommendation and make sure you get on a good team. But I’d like everyone to stay.” When he fell silent, he looked at each member of his team.

Abby was wiping tears from her eyes. She looked up at him, and declared “I’m not going anywhere, Gibbs! You know that.”

Ziva’s eyes were bright too. “I am happy to work with both you and Tony, Gibbs. I have no interest in leaving. You are all family.” Gibbs smiled at her, and she smiled back.

Finally, he looked at McGee, who met his gaze squarely. The young man got to his feet and walked over to Gibbs. “Boss… I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have doubted you or my place on the team. Ziva says I need to deal with my insecurities, and she’s right. I’ll try not to jump to conclusions. I don’t want a transfer, and I know I can trust you and Tony to watch my back out there.”

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. “Do you, Tim?”

McGee drew in a breath and let it out forcefully. “Intellectually, yes. Emotionally, I may have to see it first. That’s the best I can give you.” He maintained eye contact with Gibbs, who nodded and reached out to McGee. McGee grasped Gibbs’ hand firmly; the two men shook on an unspoken agreement. Gibbs raised an eyebrow again. “We slip up, Tim, you tell us.” McGee nodded.

Gibbs let go of McGee’s hand and stepped back. He watched as Abby launched herself off of the couch and wrapped McGee in a hug, saying softly, “I meant it, Timmy. We’ll talk.” He stepped back and looked over at Tony, who stood gazing at Gibbs as if Gibbs were the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. It was actually a little embarrassing, and Gibbs sort of wished he’d stop that. Tony started to move toward Gibbs, but stopped as McGee broke away from Abby and approached him. “Tony…” McGee started, but seemed unsure of what to say. “Sorry doesn’t seem to cut it…”

Tony shook his head. “You’ve already apologized to me too many times today, Tim. Let’s make those all inclusive through tonight, okay? I’m glad you’re still on board.”

McGee smiled. “Me too. How about I bring lunch in with me tomorrow?”

Tony grinned. “You’re on.”

Ziva stood. “I think it is time for us to leave, no? We should all get some rest since we may be heading north tomorrow.” General agreement followed her suggestion, and within moments the three of them were ready to go. Abby was just about out the door when she suddenly turned and walked back to Gibbs. “Wall or desk?” she asked.

He pondered that for a moment. “Wall, I think. Be good for the bedroom.” He smirked at Tony, who grinned back at him.

Abby gave him a quick hug. “You were awesome tonight, Gibbs. Tony’s good for you.” She let go before he could comment, and ran over to Tony, hugging him too before she followed McGee and Ziva out of the front door.

Gibbs and Tony looked at each other for a moment, then both moved toward the door. Tony got there first and locked it.

 **Reaffirmation**

After locking the door, Tony turned to Gibbs. “Wow, Jeth. That was just… wow.”

Gibbs smiled at him, then turned and walked toward the kitchen, intending to check and see if anything needed cleaning up. He stopped when Tony’s hand closed over his arm. “It can wait,” Tony said.

Gibbs looked at him. Tony’s eyes were shining. He tugged on Gibbs’ arm. “Upstairs. Now. Please?”

Gibbs nodded. Tony turned and bounded up the stairs. Gibbs turned off the lights downstairs, then headed up himself.

He paused in the bedroom door. Tony stood in the middle of the room, next to the bed, apparently having set a record for stripping. His arms were at his sides, his cock standing at attention, and he simply stood there, watching Jethro. After taking a moment to just look, Jethro moved into the room, doing his best to match Tony’s time for clothing removal. Clothing off, he walked over to Tony, standing about two feet away, just looking. Tony reached out, caressing Jethro’s face gently. “What you said down there… I don’t think anyone’s found me worthy of a public declaration before.”

Jethro stared at Tony. “It wasn’t enough, Tony,” he said quietly. “It wasn’t nearly enough.”

Tony made a low sound in his throat, reaching out with both hands to grasp Jethro’s arms and pull him close. Their lips met hungrily; Tony had one hand at the back of Jethro’s head, the other cupping his ass, pressing him close. Jethro’s hands went to Tony’s back and ass, and the two men groaned as their cocks rubbed together. Tony’s tongue danced around Jethro’s lips; Jethro opened his mouth, sucking that tongue in eagerly. Tony was making small grunting noises, pressing hard against Jethro. He jerked his hips up and into Jethro, and the stimulation to Jethro’s hard cock made the older man groan deep in his chest. Tony pulled back from kissing with a gasp; he stared at Jethro for a moment, then moved to his neck, nibbling, biting, licking and kissing, all the while holding Jethro close and occasionally thrusting against him. The assault drove Jethro crazy; he flung his head back and to the side, his own hips moving, thrusting against Tony. He felt like all he could do was hang on; Tony was taking him for one hell of a ride. He couldn’t reciprocate all the touches just then, but he did have use of his mouth, so he went with that.

“I meant it, Tony… oh, god, I meant so much more than I could say… I need you, I need you so much…”

Tony made a growling noise and turned, moving Jethro over to the bed and tumbling them both down onto it. He managed not to land directly on his lover, but straddled him almost immediately. He let go of Jethro long enough for the older man to scoot back so he was completely on the bed; Tony moved with him, and as soon as Jethro’s head hit the pillow, Tony grabbed his wrists and pinned them off to the sides. He resumed his assault on Jethro’s neck, shifting his hips so their cocks were right next to each other. He started a rotating motion, spreading pre-come, lubricating their groins as much as he could; there was no way either one of them was going to pause to grab some lube.

Being pinned like that was something Jethro had never experienced before; what Tony was doing to him was one hell of a turn on. His arms were pinned by Tony’s hands, his legs by Tony’s laying over them, just getting enough leverage to move his hips. Jethro could barely move at all, could only thrust a little against Tony, unless he wanted to use some fighting moves, but he had no interest in escaping Tony’s hold. Tony bit his neck hard, much like he had that first night they shared the bed at Tony’s place; this time Jethro gasped and moaned in pleasure. He struggled a little, caught between wanting to touch Tony and wanting to let these feelings completely take him over. The latter won.

Tony moved back to Jethro’s mouth, swallowing the older man’s moans. He kept up that rotating motion, pressing a little harder against Jethro’s cock, which made Jethro cry out into Tony’s mouth. Tony grinned against Jethro’s lips, then lifted his head, getting a little more leverage to grind against Jethro’s groin. Jethro’s eyes opened, and he gazed up at Tony, astounded by what was happening. Tony looked back, then dropped his mouth to Jethro’s ear. “Jeth, you’re amazing like this, you make me want everything... I want it all, I want you, I need you… come for me, please, come for me, will you? I want to see you lose it, want to see how good I can make you feel… Jethro, please!” Tony moved harder and faster against Jethro’s willing body, thrusting straight on now that their cocks slid easily against each other from the sweat and pre-come coating their bodies. He was barely hanging on, wanting to come but denying himself until he could see Jethro do it.

Jethro was so far gone in sensation, he could barely register exactly what Tony was doing. Tony’s words and actions had set him on fire. He could feel the pressure building inside, felt the pressure of Tony holding him down from outside… he flung his head back and screamed as he came.

Tony stared down at him, taking in the expression of ecstasy that took over Jethro’s features as he came. He felt Jethro’s entire body tense as he came, and that was enough to push him over the edge as well. Tony’s head came crashing down into Jethro’s neck as he came, shouting wordlessly.

Both men lay there gasping for breath. After a moment, Tony rolled off of Jethro and onto his side, watching his lover through a haze of pleasure. Jethro just kept breathing for a few minutes, eyes closed. He blinked his eyes open as his breathing calmed, and he turned his head to look at Tony. He reached out to caress Tony’s face. “That was… I don’t think I have the words for what that was.”

Tony smiled at him. “I couldn’t help myself. You saying what you did downstairs… you may think it wasn’t much, but I can’t begin to explain how much it meant to me.”

Jethro looked seriously at Tony. “I meant it, you know. I don’t think I could walk away now.”

Tony looked back. “Wouldn’t want you to.”

Jethro moved his hand to Tony’s neck, running his fingers along Tony’s skin, down onto his chest. Tony copied the motion, reaching out to Jethro. Their hands encountered some very wet areas at about the same time; both men looked down at each other, then looked back up and started laughing. Tony rolled over and got up off the bed, heading into the bathroom. He came out a moment later with two damp washcloths; he cleaned himself off quickly, then climbed back on the bed. Jethro reached for the second cloth, but Tony gently batted his hand away. “Least I can do is clean you up after I practically assaulted you,” Tony said. He ran the cloth gently over Jethro’s chest and abdomen. Jethro relaxed back into the bed and closed his eyes; it had been a long time since someone took care of him like this. He started to drift off a bit. He was aware of Tony shifting his weight around, tossing the cloths back into the bathroom and then wrestling with the sheets, managing to get them covering Jethro with minimal help from the dozing man. Tony got into bed, snuggling into his lover. “I set the alarm for seven,” he said, “although it’s early and I doubt we’ll sleep that late.”

Jethro turned, facing Tony and draping his arm over his side. “Sounds good,” he mumbled. There was a pause, and then he continued softly, “Hey, Tony?”

“Yeah, Jeth?”

“You can assault me like that anytime.”

He could just register the smile in Tony’s voice as he fell asleep. “You got it, Jeth. Sleep well.”


	12. Making Progress

**Waking Up at Gibbs’**

Tony woke up slowly to the feel of fingers running through his hair. He was lying on his stomach, arms under the pillow, legs stretched out. He hummed happily, burrowing a bit into the pillow and then tilting his head to rub back into the hand that was petting him. He heard Jethro’s soft chuckle in response and smiled, keeping his eyes closed. The petting continued; Tony allowed his thoughts to drift back to the previous night. He tensed a little as he remembered the pictures on Abby’s laptop and McGee’s anger; he relaxed again as Jethro murmured “easy… easy” and moved his hand down to Tony’s upper back, caressing and rubbing soothingly. “That’s it,” Jethro said quietly, continuing to caress from Tony’s back to his neck and eventually back up into his hair.

Tony’s thoughts shifted to later on, after the team left and he and Jethro came upstairs. He remembered how emotional he felt after Jethro’s awkward but heartfelt declaration in front of the team, how desperate he’d been to touch and express his tumultuous feelings, how much he craved both Jethro’s and his own release. He remembered pinning Jethro to the bed, holding him down and basically assaulting the man. His gut started to churn a bit – he couldn’t believe he’d done that, that Gibbs had let him do that to him. His first thought was that he’d messed up; his second was that obviously things were fine since he was getting caresses and not head slaps. Conflicted, he groaned into the pillow, burying his face.

Jethro felt the tension in Tony’s body change; he moved his hand to Tony’s shoulder and tugged gently. Tony resisted turning over and burrowed further into the pillow. Jethro leaned over. “C’mon, Tony, look at me. What’s got you worried?” He tugged again, lightly but insistently.

Tony sighed, then rolled with the pressure, ending up on his back, eyes still closed. Jethro let go of Tony’s shoulder and tapped the tips of his fingers quickly and lightly all over Tony’s face, making Tony laugh and open his eyes. Jethro’s fingers stilled on Tony’s cheek, and they just looked at each other for a moment. Tony’s eyes dropped to Jethro’s neck, and he grimaced a bit as he saw the bite mark he’d left behind. He looked up into Jethro’s eyes, contrition clearly written in his expression. He opened his mouth to speak, but Jethro cut him off before he could get a word out.

“You try to apologize for anything you did last night, and I’ll head-slap you into the next county,” he warned, eyes lit up with humor.

Tony shut his mouth and just raised his eyebrows. Jethro smiled and leaned in, kissing Tony lightly on the lips before speaking again. “Last night was great. Different from anything anyone’s done to me before, and I loved it. Meant what I said, you can do it again anytime. Or I’ll return the favor, either way.”

Tony sighed, relaxing a bit, though he still looked doubtful. “You sure, Jeth? I just took over, didn’t give you a chance to do anything.”

Jethro quirked an eyebrow at him. “Seems to me you made sure I had a good time. And do you really think –“ he rolled over on top of Tony, settling his weight on his lover and moving his hands to pin Tony’s wrists to the bed “- that I couldn’t have stopped you if I’d wanted to?”

Tony lay passively in Jethro’s hold and shook his head.

“So,” Jethro continued, releasing Tony and rolling back to his side, “I must not have wanted to… which means I wanted to stay where I was, which means I enjoyed every second of it.” He looked at Tony for a moment. “I’m not your boss here, Tony. We’re equals outside of work. And if we’re going to keep exploring this relationship, we’re both going to end up doing some things that seem strange sometimes. Just go with it.”

Tony nodded. “Promise me you’ll tell me if I do something you don’t like.”

Jetho nodded back. “Of course. Same to you?”

Tony grinned. “Of course.” He sat up, glancing at the clock. Six forty-one. He stood and stretched, then turned to look at Jethro, who was gazing appreciatively at Tony’s body. “Didn’t we already have this conversation?”

Jethro smirked at him. “Yup. And I’m sure we’ll have it again. Two het guys getting it on? We’re both going to have occasional freak out moments.”

Tony sighed. “Seems like it’s going to be me most of the time, huh?”

Jethro grinned. “Maybe. You seem to have issues with the fact that I’m me. I don’t have any issues with you being you.”

Tony made a face at him. “You would if I’d been your boss for the past nine years,” he pointed out.

Jethro nodded. “Probably. Go hit the bathroom and come back to bed. We don’t have to go anywhere for hours yet.”

Tony followed orders, sliding back under the sheets as soon as possible. Jethro tugged him closer with his right arm, head propped up on his left. Tony scooted over, using his left leg to hook Jethro’s right leg, pulling Jethro’s pelvis into his own. He left their legs entwined, and threaded his right arm through the space under Jethro’s left side, moving his hand up to Jethro’s neck, running his fingers back and forth from Jethro’s hair to the base of his neck and back up again. “We’d rock at Twister,” he commented.

Jethro laughed. “Don’t mention that at work; Abby’ll have it set up in her lab before the end of the day.”

Tony smiled at the thought. “Can you imagine the look on Vance’s face if he came into the lab and caught the whole team playing?”

Jethro smirked. “Oh yeah… we’d all be looking for new jobs.”

Tony’s hand stilled. “Hey, we could set up a whole detective agency, you know, like on Angel, except without the vampires and demons and things.”

Jethro stared down at him. “There are times when I wonder what planet you come from,” he commented.

Tony was just warming up. “You’ve never seen it? What am I saying, of course you haven’t. That’s okay, I’ll Netflix the DVDs if we end up getting fired. You’re grumpy enough to be Angel, at least sometimes, and you’d look hot in leather. I should get you a leather jacket. And speaking of shoulds, I should be Wesley, being your second, but I’d fit Gunn better, I think… McGee could make a passable Wes, what with his multiple degrees and all. Abby would be Fred, before she turns into Illyria, of course, and Ziva could be Cordy… come to think of it, if she were, Connor never would have been kidnapped and Jasmine would never have gotten her claws in… actually, though, she might be better as a female version of Spike, although personally I think things got a bit off track in the fifth season…”

Jethro decided that there was really only one good way to shut Tony up, so he followed through on that. The kiss started out light and slow. Tony didn’t seem to mind the interruption at all; he hummed happily, tightened his grip on the back of Jethro’s neck a little, and swept his tongue over Jethro’s lips. Jethro opened his mouth, allowing Tony free rein to explore. Tony brought his left arm up to encircle Jethro’s back, caressing for a moment before he gently pulled Jethro down on top on him. Jethro moved with the pressure, working a bit to disentangle his legs without breaking the kiss. Their lips slid against each other, and their tongues changed places, with Jethro’s now sweeping through Tony’s mouth. Tony groaned into the kiss, shifting his weight to bring his hardening cock against Jethro’s. Jethro grunted into the kiss, then to Tony’s surprise pulled back.

Tony’s eyes opened to find Jethro looking down at him with an expression that he couldn’t quite read. Jethro’s hand stroked the side of Tony’s head, and the older man leaned in and nipped Tony’s neck gently. He moved his lips to Tony’s ear and whispered “Turn over,” moving off his lover. Tony rolled over onto his stomach, settling his legs and pushing the pillow into a more comfortable position. He felt Jethro throw off the sheets and move to sit on his thighs. Jethro’s hands began a light massage, more caressing, really, concentrating on Tony’s neck and shoulders for the moment. Tony stretched, tensing his entire body for a moment, then relaxing fully into the mattress.

Jethro continued the massage for a while, slowly moving down Tony’s back. He shifted his position on Tony’s legs back a bit, concentrating on Tony’s lower back, buttocks, and thighs. Tony was starting to feel as though he couldn’t move if he wanted to.

“Wow, Jeth… you have incredibly talented hands. You’d make a killing if you set up a massage table in the bullpen and charged by the hour.”

Jethro chuckled quietly. “Not interested in doing this for anyone but you, Tony.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the middle of Tony’s spine, then licking the skin, steadily moving up Tony’s back.

Tony arched into the feel, making happy noises. “On second thought, let’s keep this between you and me,” he gasped out, as Jethro nipped the skin covering Tony’s shoulder blade.

“Gladly,” Jethro responded. He moved his mouth up to Tony’s ear. “Might be a while before we get time alone again… want to keep this going?” Tony nodded emphatically. Jethro stroked Tony’s hair. “Alright. You just lie there, let me make you feel good.” He shifted his weight off Tony for a moment, and Tony heard the sound of the nightstand drawer opening. He tensed a bit, raising his head to see what Jethro was doing.

Jethro held up a small bottle of massage oil. He looked at Tony. “Not looking to take things much further than we’ve gone, Tony, don’t worry.” Tony held his eyes for a moment, then smiled and nodded, letting his head fall back onto the pillow.

Jethro opened the bottle and poured some of the oil out onto his palm. Setting the bottle back on the nightstand, he rubbed his palms together for a moment, then began gently caressing Tony’s back and sides. Tony murmured something incoherent, stretching, tensing, and relaxing again, burrowing his face into the pillow and sighing. Jethro moved his hands down Tony’s back, shifting back on Tony’s legs again, and started stroking and rubbing Tony’s ass cheeks. Tony’s hands clenched, and he groaned into the pillow. “Feels great, Jeth.” Jethro nodded, forgetting Tony couldn’t see him. He moved one hand to his own cock, getting it slippery with oil. Tony raised his head a little and looked back at him. “No fair you touching yourself without me looking,” he said. Jethro smiled at him and brought both hands back to Tony’s body, moving to his inner thighs for a moment, before bringing them back to Tony’s ass. He leaned forward, nipping Tony’s neck again and when Tony moved his head back into it, kissing and licking his lips. As he did so, he slid his fingers down Tony’s back and into the cleft between his cheeks. Tony shuddered and raised the intensity of the kiss.

Jethro spoke into Tony’s mouth. “Not going in, just touching, just want to feel you…” More stroking while he continued to kiss Tony, running his fingers along the delicate skin and over the tight ring of muscle. Tony jumped a bit at that; Jethro moved his fingers across the ring again, and this time Tony pushed back against Jethro’s hand. Jethro continued to rub, pressing a bit on the sensitive area. Tony’s breathing was coming faster. “Jeth –“

Jethro’s hand stilled immediately. “Okay, Tony? Do you want me to stop?”

Tony shook his head. “No, no… it’s very okay. Just – want to feel your hand on my dick too.”

“That’s not a problem,” Jethro whispered. “Shift over a bit.”

Tony shifted his weight over to one side, just enough to make some room. Jethro reached around him, hand encircling Tony’s cock, already wet and leaking. Tony moaned softly as Jethro started stroking him, and began thrusting a bit against Jethro’s hand, mouth open a little, eyes closed. Jethro stared down at the picture Tony made, and reached with his other hand to separate Tony’s ass cheeks, shifting so that he could move his own cock in-between. He made sure his cock head wasn’t going to catch on Tony’s skin, then he settled his weight and began slowly thrusting in time with the motion of his hand on Tony’s cock. Both men groaned at the sensation; Jethro moved so his forehead rested on Tony’s shoulder. He started moving faster, tightening his grip on Tony’s cock as well as on his hip, moving his own cock between Tony’s cheeks, the oil making it slide easily, rubbing against Tony’s hole, increasing the speed of his hand working Tony’s cock. Tony was keeping up a steady stream of sound, gasping and moaning, and letting slip words like “please” and “so good” and “Jethro!” Jethro couldn’t speak, he just kept breathing and listening and moving. He felt the pressure build; determined to hold off and make Tony come first, he leaned in and bit Tony’s shoulder, growling as he did so, trying to distract himself. Tony gasped, thrust wildly, then came, his whole body shuddering. His ass clenched tight, and Jethro drove his cock into the muscular grip within that cleft, coming all over Tony’s back a moment later.

The two men lay together, catching their breath. Jethro released Tony’s softening penis; Tony reached down and grabbed his hand, bringing it up to his face. He pressed a kiss to Jethro’s fingers, then snuggled his hands into his chest, sighing happily. Jethro rubbed his forehead along Tony’s shoulder, then eased off of him.

“Your back’s all wet,” he commented.

“Well, duh,” Tony replied. “So’s your hand. And the sheets.”

Jethro thought about that for a moment. “Yeah.”

Tony laughed. “Good thing we’re not going into work right away. I think you short-circuited your brain.”

“Your fault too,” Jethro said.

Tony turned his head to look at him. “I’m not complaining. Are you complaining?”

“Not a chance.”

Tony squirmed out from under Jethro, looking at the clock. It wasn’t eight yet. “You turned the alarm off this morning?”

“Yeah, when I first woke up.”

“I’m setting it for nine. Let’s snuggle and sleep.”

“Everything’s wet.”

“So? We’ll shower and change the sheets before we leave.” Tony yawned.

“You can sleep in this mess?”

“Yes, and so can you. Hush.” Tony pressed another kiss to Jethro’s hand, and snuggled back against him. Jethro weighed the attraction of getting clean versus the attraction of lying in bed with Tony.

Tony won.

 **Prepping for the Op**

The team was in the conference room, files, papers, aerial photographs and blueprints spread out all around them. They’d been working for several hours, going back over initial plans made the day before, tossing out some ideas and refining others. Ziva picked up an enlarged blueprint and stuck it up on the bulletin board they’d brought in, since McGee was busy with the only plasma screen in the room.

Tony got up and joined her in front of the diagram showing the layout of the house. Things had gone very smoothly so far, and he was finally able to relax. He been a little worried that McGee might have reverted back to having issues, but that didn’t seem to be the case. He’d mentioned the possibility to Gibbs as they were eating a quick breakfast before heading out to work, and Gibbs had joked that Tony should probably have Abby analyze the lunch McGee was supposed to bring him for toxins. Tony’d tried to head-slap the man, but Gibbs had dodged and laughed.

Both McGee and Ziva had eyed Gibbs’ neck when they got in to work… the bite mark was clearly visible above his shirt collar. Several smirks had been directed Tony’s way, but since one of them came from McGee, Tony didn’t mind. No one directed any of them toward Gibbs. Tony had a bet going with Ziva as to whether Abby would say anything about it to Gibbs once she saw it.

So far Tony wasn’t having trouble compartmentalizing, keeping thoughts of the previous night and morning at bay while he worked on the upcoming op. Gibbs helped by staying in work mode, and it didn’t hurt that he wasn’t in the conference room with them all that much anyway. Letting his mind wander a bit, Tony wondered if he could get Gibbs to watch a movie with him. Hearing a noise from Ziva, he glanced over and gave her a big smile. She shook her head at him, but smiled back.

Refocusing on the plans, he listened to Ziva’s argument in favor of an approach through the mudroom door. It was located in a back corner of the house, next to a laundry room and a bathroom, down a hall away from the main living areas. Tony liked that aspect, as far as it went, but he was concerned about accessibility. To the right of the mudroom door, as you looked at it, was a rock wall about eight feet high. Climbing it would leave them vulnerable. The house was surrounded by trees on the opposite side and in the back, with a large grass yard leaving a clear area to cross to reach the door. There was an extensive bay window looking out onto that yard, not to mention all the windows on the upper floor; Tony doubted there’d be much hidden from view. Ziva merely suggested approaching at night; Tony pointed out that a stronghold wasn’t much of a stronghold without outside lighting. He wanted confirmation that Vargas wasn’t in the country yet; he was all for getting there first and lying in wait to grab the guy as soon as he arrived. Gibbs seemed to favor that plan as well; Vance preferred waiting for all the rats to enter the trap before closing in. Apparently the CIA had completely lost Ratero, and there was a possibility that he was either with Vargas or planning to meet up with him.

“If we do as Vance suggests, we’re walking in blind, Gibbs,” Tony complained. “We’ll have to rely on the CIA or FBI or whoever to tell us how many men and how well armed. Seems this would be better suited to a SWAT team, or military.”

Gibbs sighed. “Not disagreeing with you, DiNozzo. But the higher ups don’t want to risk a larger force scaring them off of their stronghold. If they don’t go there, no telling where they end up.”

Ziva looked over the plans again. “Gibbs could provide backup with his sniper rifle, from the woods,” she suggested.

Gibbs shook his head. “Not ideal, Ziva. Visibility may be poor into the house; could take one of you getting shot at before I’ve got a clear target. And we want Vargas alive… too great a chance I’ll take him down permanently if I’m shooting blind.”

Ziva looked up at Gibbs. “Night vision scope?”

“Outside lights would be blinding. We’d have to take them out first.”

Ziva nodded. “Tony, your objection is visibility, yes?” Tony nodded. She shrugged. “So, we take out the outside lights, shoot them out using a silencer. Mount a distraction in front first. Real approach is from the back: take those lights out, enter through the mudroom.”

“We’re a small group as it is, Ziva,” Tony pointed out. “Taking out one team member for the distraction is going to make things that much more difficult.”

McGee spoke up from his computer terminal. “We could automate something, put it on a timer, or remote activation.”

Tony’s mouth opened, but then he closed it, brow furrowed. _That might work._ He looked over at Gibbs, whose eyes met his, considering. Gibbs nodded, then turned to McGee. “McGee, come up with a viable idea for a distraction, including how to get it in place. Ziva, Tony, investigate options for an approach through the woods, in back. I’m going for coffee. Who wants something?” They were all surprised by the offer, but recovered quickly enough to take advantage of the opportunity. Coffees all around. Tony also put in a request for pizza, or, failing that, donuts. He then started to suggest how many of various types of donut. Gibbs glared, head-slapped, and left.

Ziva turned to look at Tony. “Things really have not changed, have they?” Tony smirked at her, rubbing the back of his head.

Gibbs was back about twenty minutes later, carrying coffees and Caff-Pow. Tony pouted until Gibbs told him that security would be bringing up the pizza once it was delivered. Gibbs then turned to the door and walked out, carrying the Caff-Pow. Ziva and Tony exchanged glances. Tony picked up his cell phone and waved it at her. She nodded. McGee, who had opted to stay out of this particular bet, rolled his eyes and continued to work on the computer.

 **In Abby’s Lab**

Gibbs sighed as he got in the elevator. Keeping his new relationship with Tony out of the office was proving to be tougher than he’d expected. He had to keep suppressing the urge to touch the younger man, which meant he really appreciated any opportunity Tony gave him for delivering head-slaps. He was also thankful for Tony’s ability undercover, which he seemed to be putting to good use, acting the way he always did at work. He’d been in the conference room with the team less than he’d anticipated; he knew they would come up with a good plan, and it was difficult to keep his focus, so he kept going back to MTAC for updates. At one point he’d called Ducky, who didn’t pick up, so he left his friend a quick message, letting him know that everything was fine, that they’d be heading out on an op soon, and that he’d touch base once they were both back. He just hoped everything would remain fine; he was a bit apprehensive about the upcoming trip to New York – his gut was telling him things might not go as smoothly as he could wish. The elevator stopped and the doors opened; Gibbs headed into the lab, idly wondering if Tony might be interested in learning woodworking.

Abby turned to face Gibbs as soon as he walked in to the lab. Eyebrows raised, he handed her the Caff-Pow. She shot him a grin before taking a sip, closing her eyes to focus on the fruity caffeine. When done, she lowered the drink, exhaling loudly in satisfaction. She opened her eyes; Gibbs still stood in front of her, a questioning look on his face. She smiled and pointed to the computer monitor. He walked over and saw, tucked in to one corner of the screen, a video feed of the doorway.

“Abs!”

“Gibbs! You’re too sneaky, and one of these days you’ll startle me and I’ll drop some sort of evidence, and then you’ll be mad at me. I don’t want you to be mad at me, so – oh my god!”

Gibbs straightened up slightly and looked at her. She was staring at him, eyes wide. He stared back for a moment, then lost patience. “What?!”

She blinked, then shot him a sly look. “I guess Tony’s really aggressive in bed, huh?”

Gibbs’ hand went involuntarily up to his neck. He looked at Abby. “Oh, that.”

“Yeah, that! Wow. Let me see it.” She reached for his shirt collar, managing to move it a bit to see the damage before he batted her hand away. “I mean, seriously, food play is great and all, but you guys do know that you’re supposed to use actual food, right?”

“Abs…”

“This is so cool. I guess you guys needed to download some stress after dinner! Are there any other marks? Can I see?”

Gibbs was torn between laughing and shouting. He managed to do neither. “No, you can’t see, and it’s none of your business.”

Abby grinned at him. “If Tony did that to _you_ , I have to wonder what you did to Tony!”

Gibbs could feel his face heating up. Abby crowed in triumph. “Ha! I made you blush! You did do something to him!”

Finally Gibbs gave in. “Well, yeah, Abs… sex with another person usually involves both people doing things with each other.”

Abby flung herself into Gibbs’ arms; he staggered back a bit from the impact. “This is so great! The two of you are so cute together, with the holding hands at dinner and the rough sex!”

“Since when is rough sex cute? And it wasn’t really all that rough. _And_ –“ he backed out of her hold and held up a hand before she could say anything else, “that’s all you’re going to get out of me.”

She smiled at him. “Tony’ll spill.”

“Not if I talk to him first. Which I will.” Gibbs growled out. He reached out and tweaked one of her pigtails. “You’re probably on your own for Caff-Pows for the next few days. I’m expecting to get the order to head to New York anytime now.”

Abby’s entire demeanor changed. “You’ll be careful, Gibbs, won’t you? You won’t let anyone do anything crazy or heroic?”

“Heroics only as needed, Abs. I promise. Pizza’s on the way, we’ll call you to head upstairs to get some.” Gibbs leaned in to kiss her cheek, then headed for the door. He spun around just before he reached it. “Lose the camera, Abs.”

She made a face at him; he grinned and left. She whirled around to her computer as soon as he was gone, tapping keys, pulling up a file, and entering numbers. “4.6, 8.7… Tony, you rock!”

 **Back in the Conference Room**

Tony’s phone buzzed. He picked it up, looked at the screen, and smirked at Ziva. “Pay up, I won.”

Ziva scowled at him. “Prove it.”

He held out the phone to her. She read the text: _omg T, what did you do, snack on him? I totally made him blush over it. B careful in NY._

Ziva sighed, reaching into her back pocket and pulling out a twenty, which she handed to Tony just as Gibbs walked in. He noticed the exchange and raised an eyebrow at Tony, who shot him a grin and said, “Half of this is yours, Boss. I’ll explain later.”

Gibbs rolled his eyes. “Great, we’re rich.” He moved over to McGee, trying to ignore the way Tony’s face lit up at the inclusive pronoun. “What have ya got, McGee?”

McGee straightened up a bit, and hit the remote to the plasma. A set of pictures of various small electronic devices appeared on the screen. “Wireless microphones and light generators,” he announced. They all moved close to the screen. McGee waved his arm toward the microphones. “They can all receive signals from a single laptop. We can program them to respond to a series of commands embedded in a program. Microphones wired to plants or structures in front of the house can provide the sound of gunshots, or even voices if we want. Light generators can be made to look like flash from a gun, or flashlights being turned on and off.”

Just as Gibbs started to speak, his cell rang. He picked it up. “Yeah, Gibbs.” He listened for a minute, then shut the phone and headed for the door. “I’ll be in MTAC.”

Tony and Ziva walked over to the plasma. “How do we get them in place without being noticed?” Tony asked.

“If we can confirm that no one is in the house, we can get up there ahead of time and set up. The equipment can sit for days or even weeks; nothing happens until we send the signal.”

Tony frowned. “And if someone’s already there?”

McGee cleared his throat. “Someone with the knowledge of how to rig the equipment could go in disguised as an electrician.”

“That someone would have to be you,” Ziva said, looking at McGee, who nodded.

Tony shook his head. “Too dangerous. These guys are going to be suspicious of everything after what went down. You could be shot on sight, or taken hostage. If they let you do the work, they’d likely search you first, so we wouldn’t be able to risk communication devices – you’d be going in without backup. Odds are they’d have a man stay with you, monitoring what you do. Can’t risk it, Tim.”

McGee frowned. “I can handle it.”

Tony looked at him seriously. “I know you can. But I’m not letting you take unnecessary risks –“

“You’re not team leader, Tony!”

“Nope,” Gibbs said, surprising them all with his sudden reappearance. “I am. And DiNozzo’s right. No one’s walking into the line of fire unprotected.” All three agents looked at Gibbs. “Scrap the gizmos, McGee. We have confirmation that Vargas is at the house, with three other men. He turned to Tony. “What do you have for getting to the house from the back?”

Tony leaned over the table, pulling out an aerial shot that showed the house and surrounding area for a two mile radius. He pointed to various areas on the picture while he spoke. “Here’s the house. The woods in the back extend for a little less than a mile. There’s a dirt road off the main one, here. We could park there, go in on foot through the woods. We take out the lights from back here… that’s probably your super sniper skills, Boss. Then we move in along the wall; I still want to stay well away from that window.”

Gibbs looked it all over, considering everything. “Alright. It’s the best we’ve got, and we need to move out. One change – we’re cutting the power to the house once we’re ready to move in. We’ll all have night vision equipment, which should give us the advantage.”

“And if they have flashlights?” Ziva asked.

Gibbs nodded. “Newer equipment blocks low-level light. As long as we’re not confronted with anything brighter than a flashlight, we should be fine. I’ll be backup from the woods if visibility allows. If not, I go in with you. We’ll try to establish which one is Vargas before cutting power. House has lots of windows, which works in our favor.” He paused, waiting for more questions, but the team was silent. “I have to head home, get my rifle. DiNozzo, make sure everyone gets something to eat, pizza should be on your desk by now. Call Abs so she can get some too. Get all the files packed up and back to Vance. Hang onto the blueprints we’ll need and any photos that will help, especially any of Vargas or Ratero. Everyone get your gear together… I’ll meet up with you here in about an hour, and we’ll head out to the airport. FBI is joining us on this one – Fornell and a couple of his guys. We’re doing the heavy lifting, they’re the distraction in front.”

Tony made a face. Gibbs noticed and smirked at him. “Be nice, DiNozzo. Fornell’s got us a Gulfstream.”

Tony’s face lit up again, and they all turned to pack everything up while Gibbs headed out the door.


	13. Interesting Times

**Getting to the Stronghold**

Gibbs sat back in his seat on the Gulfstream, watching his team work. His three agents, along with the two from the FBI, were going over blueprints and photographs, even though they had already done so at least twice since boarding the plane. Even Tony had settled in, after gushing about the plane’s amenities for only fifteen minutes. Tobias Fornell and his two-man team, Agents Roberts and Foster, had boarded toward the end of that time, distracting Tony, who had asked for the missing Agent ‘Slacks’ and complemented Fornell on his choice of outerwear, which was standard FBI issue. Gibbs had thought he’d have to toss a head slap Tony’s way, but as soon as the plane took off, Tony was all business, getting the ‘fibbies’ up to speed. The flight to Stewart Air Force Base would be less than two hours, so Tony wasn’t wasting time. Gibbs had already briefed Tobias from MTAC, so his FBI counterpart was sitting across from him, alternating looking out the window with observing the agents at work.

Gibbs was pleased to see Ziva and McGee following Tony’s lead. He watched McGee for a moment, seeing nothing in the younger man’s body language that would indicate a problem with Tony. Shifting his eyes to Tony, he assessed his senior field agent, noting that Tony seemed completely relaxed with McGee as well. _Dinner was the right move. Hope I never, ever have to do it again._ Thoughts of dinner turned to thoughts of after dinner; Gibbs found himself running his eyes over Tony’s body, thinking of how he’d been trapped underneath it, how Tony had taken charge… he realized that Tony was staring back at him, and he wrenched his eyes away, only to find Fornell looking at them curiously, glancing back and forth between the two of them. He gave himself a mental head slap. _Keep your head in the game, damn it._

Their eyes met, and Fornell’s eyebrows shot up after a moment. He leaned forward. “Something you want to tell me, Gibbs?”

Gibbs gave him his best blank look. “Nope.”

Fornell returned the volley with his usual half-smile, and glanced over at Tony.

“I get the feeling there’s something going on with Agent DiNutzo. Didn’t your mother teach you that it’s nice to share?”

Gibbs tilted his head and laughed. “Yeah, and you always tell me everything, Tobias.”

Fornell shifted in his seat. “Seriously, Jethro, this operation is too important to jeopardize for any reason. If there’s something wrong with your agent that could compromise the mission –“

The glare Gibbs leveled at Fornell was enough to make the man straighten up and sit back, even if just for a second. “Tony is fine.”

Fornell looked at Gibbs for a long moment. “There is definitely something you’re not telling me. That’s okay, Jethro. I’ll figure it out eventually.” He smirked at Gibbs, and set to watching Tony more intently. Gibbs shifted in his seat a bit, willing himself not to slip up again.

Tony glanced over in their direction a short while later. His expression was warm, unguarded just for a moment when his eyes met Gibbs’; he then caught Fornell looking at him, and looked quickly away, a hint of red showing up in his face. Fornell’s eyes narrowed; he looked carefully at Tony, then at Gibbs, who stared back at him. The FBI agent blinked rapidly a few times, brow furrowed, then his eyes widened and he looked from Gibbs to Tony and back again. He sat back in his chair, grinning. “Never mind, Agent Gibbs; I got it.” Gibbs simply kept staring at him, face impassive. Fornell just laughed quietly, shaking his head. “Interesting times, Jethro, interesting times. You surprise me.” After that comment, Fornell settled into gazing out the window. Gibbs sighed quietly, then looked over at his team. Ziva and McGee were pointing something out to the other agents on one of the blueprints; Tony was looking at Gibbs with a slightly panicked expression. When he caught Gibbs’ eye, he glanced rapidly at Fornell and back. Gibbs shrugged and rolled his eyes; Tony’s eyes widened for a moment, then he shook his head and shot Gibbs a small, apologetic smile. The corner of Gibbs’ mouth twitched, Tony’s smile widened, and the exchange was over.

Once they landed, the agents commandeered a small room in a section of the airport devoted to Air National Guard activities. They looked over the blueprints and photos one last time, committing everything to memory. They could all recognize Vargas, as the pictures of him were taken during the brief time he was in custody. He was of medium height and build, with a swarthy complexion and thinning hair. Surveillance photos of Ratero were fuzzy; getting a positive ID on him would be difficult. There was still no confirmation that he was in the country, let alone at the stronghold. Anyone who wasn’t Vargas or who didn’t fit what was known of Ratero was fair game for a kill shot, if necessary.

There were two cars waiting; one for each team. Both teams needed to drive past Stewart National Forest to some sparsely populated back roads where a few houses, including the stronghold, abutted the woods. Fornell’s team would park on a side street some ways away from their target and proceed on foot, ready to provide the necessary distraction that would allow Gibbs’ team to get into the house. Their plan was simple: shoot out a few windows in front with a BB gun, make noises to sound like kids goofing off. No reason to suspect federal agents, who had to announce themselves as standard procedure. Ratero’s ties to terrorism gave them carte blanche to break protocol. The NCIS agents would be parking further away, cutting through the State lands to get to the back of the house. Communication through microphones and earwigs would let each team know when the other was in place; Gibbs’ team had farther to travel on foot, so Fornell, Roberts, and Foster would have to wait for their signal.

Once Vargas and his men were paying attention in front, McGee, Ziva and Tony would get ready to rush the mudroom door. It would be dark by the time everyone was in place. Foster was designated to cut the power to the house, which would be the trigger to move in. Gibbs would stay at the edge of the woods, providing cover with his rifle, attempting to take out the opposition without shooting to kill, if possible. The back of the house was riddled with large windows, so with the night vision scope, it shouldn’t be too difficult. It was seven against four; with the element of surprise in their favor, the odds were good that they would finish this up quickly.

Outfitted with bullet-proof vests and fully armed, the two teams separated, heading out to their vehicles and setting off for the stronghold. Fornell shot Gibbs a loaded look as they parted, glancing at Tony and back to Gibbs. “You do realize you’re insane, right?” Gibbs simply raised an eyebrow; Fornell shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said. Gibbs snorted. “Like you listened to my warning about our ex-wife?” Fornell sighed philosophically, then gave Gibbs a short wave as they parted.

 **Going In**

The car ride proved uneventful, unless one counted Tony’s truly horrific jokes as events. Ziva following through on her threat to flay him alive if he didn’t stop would have been an event, but she restrained herself out of respect for Gibbs. McGee raised eye-rolling to a new art form, and Gibbs spent most of the ride trying not to laugh… less at Tony’s jokes than at the others’ reactions. They were all grateful to Tony for distracting them and not letting them worry about what was coming.

About forty-five minutes out from the airport, Gibbs parked the car on the side of a dirt road. They all got out and checked equipment. Gibbs slung his rifle across this back, grabbed a map out of his jacket pocket, and spread it out on the trunk of the car. The others gathered around, and Gibbs pointed out their current location and where they were heading. McGee was taking point, in charge of the compass and using his tracking skills to warn the others if there were any signs of people patrolling the woods. Gibbs would bring up the rear. Once they were in sight of the house, they’d contact Fornell and everything would start.

The trip through the woods was in complete contrast to the one in the car. They traveled without speaking, eyes constantly moving, checking in with each other and checking for anything out of the ordinary. The light was starting to fail; it would certainly be dusk by the time they reached the house. At one point, about twenty minutes in, McGee stopped walking and flung his hand up in the air. They all crouched and froze; McGee pointed, and they watched as a black bear and her two cubs moved by off to their left. The two cubs stopped to squabble with each other. McGee and Ziva were grinning, enjoying the sight. Gibbs almost laughed out loud when the mama bear cuffed the cubs to get them to pay attention and follow her. Tony, not being so much the outdoorsy type, was more apprehensive, stepping a little closer to Gibbs. He turned his head and looked at Tony, who gave him a bit of a nervous smile. Gibbs winked at him; Tony’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened. Gibbs ducked his head, hiding a smile as the bears moved out of sight and the agents continued on with their mission, Tony sending Gibbs an amused glance as they set out.

The trees thinned a bit as they finally arrived at the house in low light conditions. Gibbs frowned; less cover meant he’d have to stay a bit further back than he wanted. Moving his rifle from his back and into his hands, he waved his team over. They all crouched low, surveying the house and what they could see of its occupants.

“I count three,” Ziva said quietly. “Two on the upper floor, one below near the bay window.”

“I don’t see Vargas,” Tony whispered.

Quick glances around showed no one else did either. Gibbs adjusted his earwig a bit, then raised his wrist to his mouth. “We’re in position.” His three agents could hear him in their ears as well as from next to them.

“Surround sound,” Tony commented. “Cool!”

Seconds later they heard Fornell’s voice. “Copy that. We’re ready.”

“Wait for my mark,” Gibbs said. He looked at his team. “Ziva, McGee, as soon as the lights go out, you get in there. Tony, count of five after they’re in, you go. I’ll be covering you.”

They all nodded. Gibbs brought the microphone back up. “Now.”

They couldn’t make out the sound of the shots or the windows breaking, not from a BB gun, but they could see their targets suddenly move toward the front of the house, guns being drawn. All three visible men were in motion; a fourth suddenly appeared in the upstairs windows that lined a hallway, heading for a flight of stairs. It was definitely Vargas. “You’ve got all four on approach,” Gibbs said.

Fornell’s voice again, “Copy that.”

They waited. Lights still blazed in the house and on the lawn. A count of ten, and then suddenly everything went out.

McGee and Ziva, guns drawn, ran out from the trees, making a beeline for the door, crouched low. They were almost there when there was a yell from their left. Gibbs and Tony swung toward the noise, taking aim, but just then they had to dive for the ground as bullets strafed through the woods. “What the hell?!” Tony spat out in a whisper. They looked up just in time to see Ziva go down; McGee dove for her, his body jerking forward as he was hit. The shooter ran toward the downed agents, firing into the woods randomly, preventing either Gibbs or Tony from being able to get a clear shot. Then it was too late; there was a risk of hitting their teammates. The man went for Ziva, who while down, was not out; she came up on her knees, gun in hand, left arm dangling at her side. He kicked her gun out of her hand, but was then confronted with her knife as he reached for her. He jumped back and raised his weapon, aiming directly at her; the click of the trigger due to the empty magazine could be heard as far back as Gibbs’ and Tony’s location. The shooter dodged another feint, then dove for McGee, grabbing him and dragging him up, using him as a shield. McGee seemed unconscious, his body limp. He was dragged toward the mudroom door; Gibbs had his rifle up and took aim, but didn’t have a clear shot. Another few seconds, and the shooter was through the door, McGee with him, and the door was shut.

“Fuck!” Gibbs swore vehemently, as Tony was up and sprinting out of the woods, toward Ziva. Gibbs brought the microphone to his mouth again. “Stand down, Fornell! I’ve got one agent wounded, one taken hostage and inside the house.”

Fornell’s voice came back in their ears, “What the hell, Gibbs?! What happened?”

“Fifth man,” Gibbs snarled. He grabbed his rifle and brought it up, sighting on the windows as he just barely registered Tony grabbing both Ziva’s gun and Ziva, lifting her easily and, crouching low, making it back into the trees. He went a little past Gibbs, on the other side of a large tree, setting her down carefully, and checking the damage.

“I believe it is a through-and-through,” Ziva said, “although I am not one hundred percent certain.”

Tony worked silently on her arm, getting supplies from the small medi-kit they carried. “Yeah, here’s the exit wound,” he commented in clipped tones. He applied antiseptic spray to the wounds, then bandaged tightly. As soon as he was done, he looked into her eyes. “How’s the rest of you?”

Ziva nodded briefly. “I will be fine. I believe McGee’s vest protected him, I think he was thrown forward by the impact and hit his head on the wall.”

Gibbs was listening, watching the house through the scope, waiting for his shot. “DiNozzo!”

“Yeah, Boss.” Tony was at his side in a heartbeat.

“Tell Fornell I’m going to take my shots as soon as I get them. If I can take out a couple of their guys before they use McGee as a bargaining chip, we’ll be better off. And tell him I don’t give a damn if I hit Vargas or Ratero or anyone else!”

“On it.” Gibbs was dimly aware of him repeating his words to Fornell. He could see one man walking briskly past the window; he took aim, held his breath, focused his energy, and fired. The window shattered, and the man went down. He didn’t get back up. Another man came running into view; Gibbs picked him off the same way. Two down, three to go… as far as they knew.

 **Proof of Life**

They waited. Gibbs stayed in position, ready to fire, but no one came into view. Ziva and Tony exchanged worried glances. After a few more minutes, Ziva spoke up. “If our count is accurate at three, they will most likely have one man in front, one in back. Vargas is the leader, unless Ratero is one of those remaining. I would expect him to have McGee as a shield and bargaining chip.”

“We need to take out the guy in back,” Tony said. “Boss, I’m going to run across the lawn, try to draw him out, get you a target.”

“Like hell you will, DiNozzo,” Gibbs began, but it was too late. Tony was up and running for the wall; he paused there, then sprinted across the lawn parallel to the house, heading for the trees on the far side. Much as he wanted to keep an eye on Tony, Gibbs kept his focus on the house. Sure enough, the night vision scope revealed the heat signature of the man stationed in back as he rose up to fire at Tony. _Aim, hold, focus, squeeze._ Another window shattered, and the man went down.

“Two left,” Ziva said quietly. “Bargaining should start any moment.”

Gibbs nodded, moving back from the rifle, looking for Tony. He heard him moving through the trees, then they all heard his voice in their ears as he spoke into the microphone, “Gibbs got another one, Fornell. If we’re right about their numbers, there’s only two left.”

Tony made it back to Gibbs’ side, meeting his glare squarely. The two men stared at each other for a moment, then both turned their gazes back to the house at the same time. They didn’t have long to wait.

“Hey, Feds!” The voice came from an upstairs window, from behind a curtain, directed out back, at the larger threat.

Gibbs waited a moment, then called out, “I’m listening!”

“You want your man alive, you back off! I want safe passage out, for me and my men!”

ZIva listened intently. “Did you catch that?” she asked. Tony shook his head; Gibbs just stared at the house.

“That little bit of hesitation before he said ‘and my men’… he is lying. Either he has one man or none at all.”

“We’re thinking one, based on Gibbs’ target practice,” Tony said. He spoke into the microphone. “Fornell… any of you guys take out one of theirs?”

“Negative,” came the reply.

Gibbs yelled out to the house. “How do I know my man is alive?”

Tony and Ziva looked at each other. “So Vargas has McGee, and will most likely keep him close for protection,” Ziva said. “The last man is split between front and back, and Vargas is speaking to us.”

Tony looked at her, then at the house. “Means the way in is clear,” he said.

Ziva looked at him for a moment, then nodded slowly. “If we are right.”

The voice they assumed to be Vargas called out again. “You want proof of life? Here!” There was a muffled sound, and they could hear a voice cry out in pain.

Gibbs’ eyes narrowed. “That could be anyone,” he called out. “Let him talk to us!”

There was another pause, then McGee’s voice, pained and out of breath, came from behind curtains in that upstairs window. “Boss, I’m okay!”

Gibbs let out a breath and ran his hand through his hair. Ziva smiled. Tony stood up, drawing his gun. “I’m going in, Boss.” He started to move toward the lawn again, only to have Gibbs grab him and wrestle him down to the ground.

“No way, DiNozzo. I’m not giving Vargas a second hostage.” He kept a firm grip on Tony’s wrist.

“We’re not leaving Tim in there!” Tony protested. “If we’re right, Vargas is at the back, upstairs, but he can’t really see what’s going on because he’s keeping that curtain closed so we don’t have a shot at him. He’s got McGee there with him. There’s one other guy, and he’ll be stationed in front to keep Fornell’s team out. I’ve got a clear shot at the back door.”

“And if you’re wrong?” Gibbs’ voice had an uncharacteristically pleading note to it.

Tony shook his head. “I don’t think we are wrong,” he said, indicating himself and Ziva. “Ziva’s right about the hesitation in Vargas’ voice, before.” Ziva nodded, then reached out to the tree trunk to steady herself with her good hand as she lost her balance a little.

“Tony,” Gibbs said, “you’ll be going in without backup. Ziva’s lost too much blood; I can’t leave her unprotected.” He looked into Tony’s eyes. “We’ll set a trap for Vargas for when he comes out.”

Tony stared at Gibbs. He glanced at Ziva, who looked between the two of them for a moment, then scooted back a bit to lean against the tree, closing her eyes. Tony reached for Gibbs’ hand, grabbing it like a lifeline. “Jeth… we can’t leave McGee in there. If we don’t go in after him, even if it all works out okay, I’ll always wonder if I didn’t go in because I didn’t want to leave you. And after everything Tim said last night… do you think he’s not wondering if we have his six, right now? I _have_ to do this.” He let go of Gibbs’ hand; Gibbs didn’t release his grip.

“You could end up taken too. Going in without backup, it’s against protocol.”

Tony looked toward the house, then back at Gibbs. “Semper fi, right?” Gibbs looked Tony in the eye for a long moment, then nodded and let go of him. “Tell Fornell to send someone around here to stay with Ziva, then come in after me,” Tony offered, as a sort of compromise.

Gibbs shook his head. “I’m negotiator… have to send someone else. And don’t use your mic unless you absolutely have to – Vargas may have discovered McGee’s earwig and could be using it.” Tony nodded, then grabbed Gibbs’ hand again and squeezed it quickly. He went to get up, only to have Gibbs pull him back down. “You be careful, Tony. I can’t lose another soul mate.”

Tony stared at Gibbs, blinking a bit to clear away the sudden moisture in his eyes. “You got it, Jeth.” Then he released Gibbs’ hand, moving quickly over to Ziva. “You okay?”

Ziva opened her eyes. “I will be, at any rate. Go get McGee out of there.”

Tony gave her a brief nod, turned to look at Gibbs one more time, then took off for the door.


	14. Going In And Getting Out

**Worry**

Gibbs spoke into the microphone quickly, requesting that Fornell send an agent to them as backup. He then forced himself to watch the second floor window that Vargas’ voice had come from, looking through the rifle scope to catch any attempt to shoot at Tony as he ran for the mudroom door. Ziva moved next to Gibbs, crouching down and providing him with a bizarre version of play-by-play narration: “He has reached the door… he had not gone in yet – I cannot see what he is doing; it is too dark. He does not appear to be moving…”

Realizing what Tony was waiting for, Gibbs called out to Vargas, “How do I know you’ll keep your word? Who am I dealing with? And what exactly do you want?”

Ziva spoke quietly, “He is in.”

Gibbs exhaled a breath while he listened for Vargas’ response. He lowered the rifle; there was no way to shoot without risking hitting Tony, since heat signatures didn’t come with ID cards. The key now was to keep Vargas talking, keep him focused on the agents outside so he wouldn’t notice the one inside.

Vargas shouted back. “That doesn’t matter! All that matters is that your man is dead if you don’t give us clear passage to a car and then to a plane at the airport!”

Gibbs responded, asking questions and continuing to demand reassurances that McGee was alive. He kept his mind on the job, somewhat grateful that he could think about something other than Tony. That could only last so long, though… after a short exchange, they’d established that the agents had twenty minutes to arrange for a private plane to take Vargas, his men, and their hostage wherever they chose to go. Once they landed at their destination, McGee would be released. Ziva and Gibbs exchanged glances at that… they both knew McGee would be dead once Vargas thought he was in the clear.

There was nothing to do but listen, wait, and wonder what was happening inside the house. Ziva moved away to sit against a tree, hissing softly when she bumped her injured arm. Gibbs moved over to her, checking the bandage for excessive bleeding.

“I am alright, Gibbs. I have had much worse.”

Gibbs looked at her searchingly for a moment; she met his gaze calmly. He nodded, and they both sat back, looking toward the house.

Gibbs was checking his watch for the third time; he was sure Tony had heard and was aware of the deadline. Just as he was looking back up at the house, they heard a single gunshot. Ziva sucked in a breath, and Gibbs froze, his heart suddenly racing. _Any second now, and I’ll hear Tony’s voice in my ear._ He waited. _He’s got to move in, get any weapons out of the way, see to McGee… that’s why there’s nothing yet._

Ziva drew her weapon with her good hand, and started to make a move toward the house. Gibbs moved in front of her. “No.”

“But Gibbs, Tony –“

“You think I don’t know that, Ziva? We’re not going in blind. We don’t know if Tony’s been captured or… or if our count is right. You’re injured. We’ll wait a little longer, give Tony a chance – we rush in now, we could lose both of them.”

Gibbs looked toward the house, mind racing. He wanted so badly to get in there, but he couldn’t leave Ziva, wounded as she was; he wouldn’t put the last member of his team in danger. _Where the hell is Fornell’s man?_ He tried not to imagine what Tony was doing right now… was he alive? Was he in pain, a hostage, or holed up, ready to trade fire with the man who shot him? He had an unwelcome mental image of Tony lying in a pool of blood, and suddenly his jaw clenched as he was assaulted with memories –

 _Tony with a smile on his face, the first time their eyes met in Baltimore, arguing over jurisdiction._

 _Tony in the elevator at NCIS after his car blew up._

 _Tony swimming to the submerged car, breaking the windshield._

 _“Don’t really feel alone, Boss. Don’t feel like I need a woman to be a soul mate. I’ve got you.”_

 _Tony’s expression, a mixture of surprise and delight, right after the first time Gibbs kissed him, on the couch in front of the baseball game._

 _Tony underneath him, moaning with pleasure as Gibbs stroked him._

 _“Semper fi, right?”_

Gibbs turned his face a bit so Ziva wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes. As soon as Fornell’s man arrived, he was going in. He had two team members to save, or at least so he hoped.

 **Inside**

Tony ran for the door, crouching low. He reached it easily, hoping that meant he and Ziva were right about there being only the two men left to worry about. He put his hand on the door handle, then froze. He had no idea how much noise there might be when it opened, so he waited for Gibbs to give him some cover. A moment later, he heard Gibbs call out to Vargas; he turned the handle, eased the door open, and slipped inside.

He went in low, gun out in front as he let his eyes adjust. He didn’t want the night vision goggles; he found them too restrictive, narrowing his field of vision. He preferred to depend on his own eyes, even though he was sure it meant facing the wrath of Gibbs later. The shadows and angles were different, so he relied initially on his ears. He heard nothing; keeping the gun aimed down the hall, he quietly shut the door. He reviewed the floor plan in his head: bathroom on the left, laundry room on the right, then a large combination closet and pantry down the hall from the bathroom. He quickly cleared both rooms; there was no sign of anyone.

He paused at the closet door and listened. The door would slide back, and he was sure it would make too much noise, so he didn’t open it, reasoning that if anyone was hiding in there he’d hear the door slide if they tried to take a shot. Moving further, he found himself at the entrance to the kitchen. Peering around the corner, he looked to the left, down the wide hallway that led to the foyer and the extensive living and dining areas. Still nothing, so he quickly moved into the kitchen, around the large island in the middle, and back against the wall diagonally opposite from the hallway where he’d just been. Now he could see into the living room, and had a line of sight to the large bay window, much of it shot out now. He focused for a moment on the trees that he could just make out in the moonlight, and imagined that he could see Gibbs. He couldn’t really, but he could hear him, as well as the voice from upstairs. The voices weren’t all that clear, but he could hear enough to know that Gibbs was continuing the negotiation.

He darted around the corner, clearing the foyer, then moved quickly across to the dining area. A large staircase went up from the far corner, turning ninety degrees to lead to the second floor. No one in the dining area, which was a bit of a surprise. There were a lot of windows, and it was here that he’d thought to find the second man.

Checking the hallway again, he moved quickly across and into the living room. He easily found the bodies of the three men Gibbs had taken out; they were all dead. He grabbed all the weapons he could find, shoving them under furniture, expect for one nine millimeter pistol that he tucked into the back of his jeans, after making sure the safety was on. He was dimly aware of Gibbs calling out to Vargas upstairs, able to hear him through the broken window.

He moved back into the dining area, heading for the stairs. The banister was solid and fairly tall, providing him some cover. Crouching down in the corner of the tallest point of the staircase and the wall separating the dining area from the living room, he sat back and closed his eyes for a moment. _Where’s the second man?_

He took the opportunity to listen to the negotiation, which he’d tuned out until now. He didn’t hear Gibbs, and he felt the loss, but Vargas’ voice came loud and clear. “No more talk! Your man is alive, for now – if you don’t have that car in front and the plane ready in twenty minutes, he won’t be!”

 _Okay… I’ve got twenty._

He heard footsteps above and pressed back into the corner, head down. Two men walking, a third being dragged. _There’s the second guy… and McGee’s either unconscious or wounded… or both._

Tony could hear the two men talking above, in Spanish. He couldn’t hear every word, but he caught enough to know that Second Guy was to head back down stairs to cover the front and back doors from the kitchen, while Vargas moved to another room with his hostage. He recognized Vargas’ voice as the one doing most of the talking, but it wasn’t what he was saying as much as how he was saying it that Tony found important. He was issuing orders, but his voice held an undertone of fear and uncertainty. _Like a guy not used to being the head honcho, not in this situation… I can work with that._

Tony caught the sound of footsteps again. Steps and drag heading away from the stairs, more steps coming toward them. He brought his gun up as he heard second man reach the stairs, and moved along the wall of the banister, matching the man’s pace. Second Guy was muttering something as he came down, which worked in Tony’s favor. He thought he caught the words “gerente de fabrica” uttered in a derisive tone, which he mentally translated as ‘office manager.’ _Oh, I can definitely work with that._

He waited until Second Guy reached the floor, then he quickly reversed his hold on his gun, gripping it by the barrel. He rose up, darted in, and hit Second Guy hard on the head with the butt of his gun before he could turn around. Tony was able to grab him as he went down, preventing him from hitting the ground hard and making too much noise. Holstering his gun, he quickly dragged the man back into the corner he himself had been hiding in, and checked for a pulse. _Heart’s still beating strong._ The guy’s head was bleeding, so Tony figured he’d be out for a while. He didn’t want to risk it, though, so he grabbed his cuffs off his belt and quickly locked his wrists behind his back. He thought for a moment, then ripped the man’s sleeve, forming a makeshift gag in case he woke up.

Only Vargas remained, with McGee. Time to ride in and rescue fair maiden, he thought, grinning to himself about how this would give him ammo to tease McGee for _years_.

Drawing his weapon, he looked cautiously up the stairs and began his ascent. He hadn’t heard any creaking when Second Guy came down, so he didn’t worry too much about noise. He wished he knew exactly how much time was left, but figured it had to be at least ten minutes.

 **Rescue**

Tim McGee was trying to figure out what to do while he played possum. His head hurt, and his vision was a little blurred when he slit his eyes open a bit, but he was otherwise unharmed, except for a sore back where his vest had stopped the bullets. He still couldn’t quite believe he’d gotten taken like this; Tony would never let him forget it. He wished he could report to the others; Vargas hadn’t even checked him for weapons; the other guy had patted him down briefly, but hadn’t looked any closer, so McGee’s microphone and earwig were still in place. Unfortunately, his hands, along with his microphone, were cuffed behind his back, so contacting the others wasn’t an option, even if Vargas did give him an opportunity. He’d heard Gibbs ask Fornell for backup, but nothing more. He remembered Ziva getting hit, and vaguely remembered her fighting off the shooter who’d grabbed him, so he guessed she would be okay.

McGee decided to just stay as he was; the longer he appeared to be out of it, the more Vargas might relax, and maybe he’d be able to distract him when Tony and Gibbs got there. And then it struck him that he had no doubt that Tony and Gibbs would in fact be there soon. _God, I’ve been an idiot_ , he thought, as he remembered voicing his fear that their new relationship would keep them from backing him up in the field. _Ziva tried to tell me, but I let my insecurities get in the way of what I knew anyway._ He promised himself that he’d apologize to his teammates as soon as they cleared up this mess.

He heard Vargas walking around behind him, so he opened his eyes a bit to see where he was. He knew he’d been dragged into another room after Vargas had issued his deadline to Gibbs. He opened his eyes just enough, blinking a few times to try and clear his vision. He was on the floor, facing the doorway. Vargas was muttering behind him, something about Ratero and incompetence, McGee thought, although his Spanish wasn’t great, so he wasn’t sure.

Just then he caught a hint of movement out in the hallway. Holding himself still, he looked as best he could while keeping his eyes barely open, just in case it was Vargas’ man coming back. No, his man wouldn’t be skulking around like the shadow over there, so he figured it was someone on his side. He opened his eyes wider as he could just make out Tony looking around the corner, into the room. Tony saw McGee and grinned, so McGee figured he knew he was awake. Tony suddenly moved out of sight; McGee guessed Vargas had turned around.

The footsteps behind McGee paused, and McGee heard Vargas ask, “Reynaldo?” Another pause, and Vargas moved forward, stepping past McGee. “Reynaldo!” He called out louder, bringing up his gun. No answer. He was standing in front of McGee, who took his chance, kicking his legs out and pushing Vargas toward the wall and then rolling to his knees and scrambling for cover as best he could.

Vargas fell forward, his gun going off, firing out through the doorway. McGee heard Tony swear quietly, and then, “NCIS, Vargas! Drop the weapon and you might get out of this alive!”

McGee had made it behind a large chair; it wasn’t perfect cover, but it would probably be enough. There was enough moonlight coming from the room across the hall for him to see Vargas freeze, keeping his gun trained on the doorway and looking around quickly for his hostage. Vargas swore quietly, then called out, “Give yourself up or I will shoot your friend.”

McGee quickly called out to Tony, “I’m okay, Tony, I’m behind cover. He’s got a clear shot at the door.”

Vargas started to swing his gun toward McGee, but then brought it back to the doorway.

Tony spoke up. “Not nice to lie, Vargas. Listen to me… you give yourself up, give us information on Ratero, it might go easier on you. You shoot me or my friend, and there’s no way you’ll get out of here alive. You’ve got three bodies downstairs that say our boss is one hell of a shot.”

All three men were quiet for a long moment, then Vargas spoke up. “What assurances do I have that what you say is true?”

Tony laughed. “What’s the alternative? You don’t give yourself up, I’m going to fire into the room, and if you have a clear shot at the doorway, I’ll have a clear shot at you. I’m wearing a bullet proof vest, you aren’t. You’re Ratero’s numbers guy, you aren’t really cut out for this. You must have a lot of information you could give us, and that makes you valuable... but our friend is still more valuable than you.”

“If you shoot in here, you risk hitting your friend,” Vargas warned, but his voice was shaky.

“Nah, I don’t think so. I’ve got a good idea of where he is, and he’s not all that close to you. Make up your mind, Vargas, I don’t have all night.”

Vargas was silent for a moment, then said, “All right. What do you want me to do?”

“Engage the safety on your weapon, put it down, and push it out the door,” Tony said. “Then lie face down with your hands on your head.”

Vargas did as he was told, sending the gun sliding toward the door, then lying down. McGee peered around the side of the chair, and called out, “You’re clear, Tony.”

Tony appeared around the corner, gun out, pointing at Vargas. He picked the gun up off the floor, checked the safety, stuck it in his jacket pocket, then put a foot on Vargas’ back, keeping his gun aimed at the man. “How you doing, Probie?”

McGee grinned. “My head is killing me, my back hurts, my hands are cuffed, and I could kiss you right now.”

Tony laughed. “Sorry, McGee, I’m taken.”

 **Aftermath**

Gibbs stood next to Ziva, who was sitting against a tree. They were both staring at the house. It had been maybe ten minutes since they heard the shot. Ziva was muttering a prayer in Hebrew, and Gibbs was trying not to think at all. He was gripping his rifle so hard that his fingers were starting to go numb.

Suddenly Tony’s voice came through loud and clear. “All clear, Boss. McGee’s fine, just a headache and sore back. I’ve got Vargas under wraps, second man is wounded and secured downstairs, three bodies.”

Relief hit Gibbs so hard, he thought for a second he might fall over. He rubbed his hand over his face, then cleared his throat and replied, “That’s a good job, Tony.”

Fornell chimed in. “We’re coming in the front, DiNutzo, as soon as we get the power back on.”

Gibbs slung his rifle over his shoulder, then extended a hand to Ziva, who was smiling. She grasped it and he helped her up. They then made their way out of the woods, across the lawn, and into the house. As they moved down the hall toward the kitchen, the lights came back on. They moved into the foyer, waiting on the FBI, all three of whom came through the front door seconds later.

Gibbs got right in Fornell’s face as he closed the door. “What the _hell_ happened to your man backing us up, Tobias?”

Fornell stood his ground, but shot a glare at a red-faced Roberts. “I apologize, Jethro. Roberts here lost a contact, and had to ditch the other one and go find his glasses.”

Gibbs stared at Fornell for a moment, then turned to look at Roberts, who went from red to pale in an astonishing impersonation of a chameleon. In two strides, Gibbs was in Roberts’ face, staring into his eyes and saying quietly, “If anything had happened to my agents because I couldn’t be there to back them up, I would have held you responsible.”

Roberts swallowed and nodded. Gibbs made a growling noise low in his throat, then dismissed the young man and headed for the stairs. Ziva followed, moving a bit more slowly than normal. Fornell motioned for Roberts to see to the cuffed man in the corner of the dining room, while he and Foster went to check out the bodies in the living area.

Gibbs hurried up the stairs, calling “DiNozzo!” as he went.

“In here, Boss!”

Gibbs strode into the second room on the left, and took in the scene. Tony stood with one foot on Vargas’ back, gun pointing down at the man’s head. McGee was sitting on a chair, hands behind his back, looking a little out of it. Ziva pushed her way into the room from behind Gibbs, looking them over quickly, then asking, “Did you cut yourself on a cardboard box again, Tony?” Tony shot her a mild glare and snorted in response.

Gibbs, who’d been staring at Tony’s face, started a bit and dropped his eyes, surveying the rest of him. There was a bloody rip in the right leg of Tony’s jeans. He moved forward, grabbing his own cuffs and bending over to grab Vargas’ wrists, snapping the cuffs on. He looked at Tony then as the younger man holstered his gun. “How bad?”

“It’s just a flesh wound,” Tony said in a horrendous fake British accent. Gibbs’ eyebrows rose. “C’mon Boss! Monty Python and the Holy Grail! You know, the Black Knight?”

Gibbs just continued to stare at him.

Tony sighed. “That’s it, Boss. You’re taking a Film Studies class.”

Gibbs couldn’t quite stop his lips from twitching.

“Seriously,” Tony said. “He just winged me. Wasn’t even aiming, just a lucky hit.”

Gibbs sighed quietly. “Seems more unlucky to me.”

Tony sobered at that. “Could have been a lot worse, Boss. I’ll take it.”

Gibbs nodded, then dragged his eyes away from Tony to see that Ziva had removed McGee’s cuffs. He looked over his injured team, then yelled, “Fornell, get your ass up here!”

“I’m right here, Jethro,” Fornell said mildly. “No need to shout.”

Gibbs shot him a look. “I need to get my team to a hospital. Can you handle clean up here?”

Fornell looked at Vargas, then at Gibbs’ team, noting Ziva’s arm, Tony’s leg, and McGee’s unfocused eyes. “Of course, Jethro. And I‘m sorry.”

Gibbs nodded. “Give me your keys and one of your agents. I’ll drive us to our car, your man can drive back.”

Fornell nodded, then shot Gibbs a small smile while he dug the keys out of his pocket. “Take Foster. I’d like to keep Roberts alive. Call me with an update from the hospital; I’ll get an ambulance for the man downstairs. We’ll get a motel room after I get Vargas locked up with the local LEOs.”

Gibbs nodded, then herded his team out the door.


	15. Connecting

**Conversation at a Bar**

Gibbs sat at the bar in the hotel restaurant, sighing quietly. He didn’t want to be there; he had much, much better things to do. But he knew Fornell well enough to know that the man wouldn’t leave it alone… better to get it over with now. So here he was, waiting on Fornell, which was only going to annoy him even more – and he knew damn well it was intentional on Fornell’s part.

While he waited, he sipped at his bourbon and thought over the night’s events. He’d driven the team to the hospital; McGee had a concussion and was staying overnight for observation, Ziva had to be treated and hooked up to an IV of strong antibiotics, also overnight, and Tony had needed a few stitches in his leg and was then free to go. Fornell had called while Gibbs was pacing in the waiting room, telling him that he’d booked them a room at the Hilton near the airport, on the FBI’s dime. Gibbs would have preferred something closer to the hospital, but he wasn’t about to turn down the result of Fornell’s guilt turned to generosity.

Gibbs had also called Vance, who had demanded an update, expressed concern for the injured agents, sounded impressed with Tony for a change, and wanted to know their ETA in DC. Gibbs had been as brief as possible in his response, saying that he’d call Vance in the morning when he knew when half the team would be out of the hospital. He’d notified Vance of the faulty intel, letting him know that someone had missed the fifth man and had almost gotten his team killed. The change in Vance’s tone as he asked Gibbs a few questions told Gibbs someone’s head was going to roll for that one. He’d also advised Vance to call Fornell to get an update on Vargas’ status, something which he smirked about as soon as he hung up, figuring Fornell deserved it.

Then he’d called Abby, letting her know the mission was over, that everyone was okay, and that Tony was the hero of the night. Abby’d gotten angry about that, complaining that she told Gibbs no heroics, and why didn’t he listen to her? Gibbs had let her babble for a little while, then broke in and told her Tony would call her in the morning, hanging up as Tony entered the waiting room without even a limp.

They had checked in with their teammates before leaving for the hotel. McGee had been pretty out of it with a bad headache, managing only a small smile and a ‘thanks’ in Tony’s direction. Ziva hadn’t been happy about staying in the hospital, but Tony pointed out that if she left now and ended up with an infection, she’d be in for a long lecture from Ducky; after a moment’s thought, she’d restated her position. Gibbs and Tony had promised to return by mid-morning, and then they’d left for the hotel.

The drive had been quiet. Tony had reached out to squeeze Gibbs’ leg once, but hadn’t left his hand there. Glancing at Gibbs, he’d smiled and said, “Not gonna risk an accident, Boss. We’ll be lucky to get there in one piece as it is.” Just for that, Gibbs drove five miles under the speed limit for a while, until Tony started laughing, at which point he resumed normal driving behavior.

They’d arrived at the hotel to be waylaid by Fornell in the lobby. He’d handed each of them a key card, told them they were both in room 215, and asked to speak to Gibbs. Gibbs had stared at Fornell for a moment, then nodded to Tony to go on up. Tony had grabbed Gibbs’ kit and headed off to the elevator, while Fornell gestured toward the restaurant. Gibbs had settled into a seat at the bar and ordered his drink; Fornell had murmured something about having forgotten to make a call and walked out into the lobby.

So here Gibbs sat, wanting to be upstairs with Tony, wondering if Fornell had gotten them a room with one bed or two. He’d bet two.

Gibbs glanced over as Fornell moved into the seat on his right and signaled the bartender. After ordering a Scotch, the FBI agent turned to Gibbs and gave him a half smile. “Vargas is secure for the night, his man Reynaldo is in the hospital under guard and is expected to fully recover… I’d say we did a good job, Gibbs.”

Gibbs shot a half-glare in Fornell’s direction. “Except for the part where my entire team could have died. What kind of agent loses a contact and walks back to the car to get his glasses in the middle of an op, without informing anyone?”

Fornell had the decency to fidget and look uncomfortable. “We’re a bit shorthanded at the moment… too many small fires to put out, all over the country. I got the best of the incoming group.”

Gibbs shook his head. “And you thought _Tony_ would jeopardize the mission?!” He swallowed some bourbon, letting it slide over his tongue and down his throat before he turned his seat to face Fornell squarely. “But that’s not why you wanted to talk to me.”

Fornell turned his seat to face Gibbs and raised an eyebrow. “Are you out of your mind, Jethro?”

Gibbs just stared at him impassively.

Fornell rolled his eyes. “Come on – I know what I saw on the plane.”

Gibbs shrugged. “You saw a team leader communicating with his senior field agent.”

Fornell reached out and grabbed Gibbs’ right arm. “Like hell! Are you sure you want to risk your career for a bit of tail? And since when do you go for guys, anyway?”

Gibbs executed a neat twist, breaking Fornell’s grip. His left hand shot out, grabbing Fornell’s right hand where it dangled off the bar, and painfully twisting his little finger back toward his wrist at an unnatural angle. Fornell drew in a sharp breath, but otherwise didn’t move. “Watch your language, Tobias,” Gibbs said mildly, releasing his hand and turning back to the bar. Fornell rubbed his hand for a moment, grimacing, then also turned to the bar. The two men drank in silence for a moment; Fornell was the first to break it.

“Alright, Jethro. I was out of line. Should have known you wouldn’t take the risk if it wasn’t serious.”

“Damn straight. On both counts.”

“Second question still begs an answer.”

Gibbs sighed. “I don’t. Only him.”

Fornell nodded, as if that made sense. “How long?”

Gibbs thought about it for a moment. “A week.”

Fornell looked surprised. “You’re kidding.”

Gibbs glanced at him, slightly confused. “What makes you say that?”

Fornell chuckled quietly. “DiNutzo’s always been your lapdog, panting after you. Sacks and I had a bet on about when you’d give in.”

Gibbs shot him an exasperated look. “It was never like that, Tobias. And why’d you ask about me going for guys if you were placing bets?”

Fornell smiled. “Thought you knew, Jethro… I like to piss you off.”

Gibbs huffed a small laugh and shook his head. “You’re doing a damn good job of it tonight.”

Fornell turned to face Gibbs again. “Seriously, you need to be careful. I know NCIS doesn’t run as tight a ship as the FBI, but I can’t see your director turning a blind eye to two team members involved in a personal relationship. And how the hell do you expect to keep it out of the field?”

Gibbs shifted uncomfortably at that. “Still let Tony go in after McGee, didn’t I?”

Fornell frowned at him. “You gonna tell me you didn’t want to stop him?”

Gibbs said nothing, just took another swallow of bourbon.

Fornell shook his head. “Thought so. Eventually you’ll end up compromising something, Jethro. Whether it’s a mission like this one, or just a crime scene, you won’t be able to stop your relationship from clouding your judgment. Might not be as bad as what Roberts pulled tonight, but still… I think you’re making a mistake. Hell, you never laid a finger on me when I got involved with our ex-wife, but you sure gave me what for just now over a few little words. What’s going to happen when DiNutzo gets hurt in the field? You want to lose your job for assaulting a suspect?”

Gibbs made a dismissive gesture. “Enough, Tobias. Tony and I are both aware of the risks. We’re working on it, and that’s all I’m going to say.”

Fornell sighed. “So this really is more than just stress relief, huh.”

Gibbs turned toward Fornell, raising an eyebrow. He downed the last of the bourbon, then stood. “Been a long day.”

Fornell nodded, downing his Scotch as he stood up. Both men walked to the elevator; Gibbs hit the button for the second floor once they got in. He glanced at Fornell, who nodded at him. They got off the elevator; glancing at the sign on the wall opposite, Gibbs turned to the left, Fornell with him. They were both walking to the end of the hallway. Reaching the door to room 215, second door from the end, Gibbs turned to Fornell, eyebrows up. “Something you want to tell me, Tobias?”

Fornell grinned. “I’m right next door. Roberts and Foster are on the other side. Good night, Jethro.”

Rolling his eyes as Fornell headed to his room, Gibbs swiped his key card and opened the door. He closed and locked it behind him, engaging the deadbolt and the chain in addition to the automatic lock. Shrugging off his jacket, he moved past the closet and into the large room, eyes falling on the single king-sized bed. “Very funny, Tobias,” he muttered.

He could hear the shower running. Music came from the television, some sort of jazz. Gibbs settled into one of the large armchairs near the window, gazing idly at the door to the bathroom, waiting for Tony to come out. He sat back and rested his head on the back of the chair, closing his eyes and, for the first time since he’d heard Tony’s voice in his ear after the single shot in the house, let himself think about what happened.

He’d come damn close to putting Tony first, over the op, over the rest of the team. That was a mistake, for any number of reasons. Leaving Ziva behind would have been a violation of his own personal code, even though he knew she could probably have taken care of herself. Tony had been right; not going in after McGee would have been just as bad. Gibbs was right too, though… Tony going in alone had not been a bright move. And maybe Tony had done it because of their new relationship; if he hadn’t gone in, Gibbs could have held out for more time when negotiating with Vargas, waited for the idiot FBI probie to show up, then gone in with Tony, even at the risk of jeopardizing the negotiation… doubtful that Vargas would have killed McGee, since he needed him as a shield regardless. But Tony had said he needed to do it, so Gibbs had let him. How was he supposed to justify that?

He remembered what he’d said to Tony, that night they had pizza at his house, the first time they’d really talked about exploring this relationship. ‘ _I can’t guarantee that the team stays the top priority if we get involved. I let my job come before my family, and look where that got them. I won’t put you at risk.’_ But he’d done just that… put Tony at risk, or let him put himself at risk, which in Gibbs’ mind was pretty much the same thing.

 _Damn, this is confusing._ Gibbs winced as he remembered the pleading tone in his voice, and calling Tony his soul mate just before Tony went in. _Way to stay focused, Gunny. Damn it all to hell, Fornell’s right._ Then he remembered how he’d felt when he heard the shot and then only silence. All the images that had flashed through his head... _should I give this up?_ Can _I?_

“Hey, Jeth, self-flagellation is really not a good thing, unless you’ve joined some sort of cult and forgot to tell me.”

Gibbs’ eyes flew open to see Tony sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at him with concern and a hint of mischief. He stared at the younger man, then moved quickly onto the bed, wrapping Tony up in a fierce hug and burying his face in his neck.

 **More Than Just Stress Relief**

Tony returned the hug just as fiercely. He loosened his hold after a moment; when Jethro didn’t do the same, Tony started stroking his back and murmuring comforting words. He was pretty sure he knew what was going on in Jethro’s head; the hug told him that Jethro wasn’t going to just walk away, but he was also pretty sure he needed to do some damage control.

“You know,” he began, “that’s the second time you’ve been so deep in thought that I’ve been able to sneak up on you. You let it happen again, and the Marine Corps is going to take away your merit badge. Wanna share?”

Jethro’s arms tightened around him even more for a moment, then the older man released him and sat up. Tony looked at him and alarm bells started to go off in his head… he could see a hint of tears in Jethro’s eyes. Jethro stared back at Tony, seeming to be at a loss for words. Tony reached out with his right hand and laid his palm against Jethro’s face, trying to come up with the right thing to say.

Jethro reached out and grabbed Tony’s other hand from where it rested on Tony’s thigh. He looked down at both their hands for a moment, then looked up and met Tony’s eyes again.

“I love you, Tony.”

Tony’s eyes widened; he stared at Jethro, so surprised that he was unable to return the words.

Jethro’s lips quirked in a small smile as he took in Tony’s astonished expression. They continued to stare at each other for a moment, then Tony blinked, coming back to reality. He tilted his head a bit to one side, narrowing his eyes a little bit. “But…?” he asked.

Jethro’s smile widened into a subdued grin. He shook his head. “No buts. I love you. Ducky told me I did, but I think I just realized that it’s really true. I meant what I said out there, Tony – before you went in after McGee. I can’t lose another soul mate.”

Tony nodded slowly. “Okay… so is that why you were so deep in thought, just now?” He sat up suddenly. “Did Fornell give you a hard time? ‘Cause I could kill him for you… could call Abby, she could hop a plane, get rid of all the forensic evidence…”

Jethro laughed, then reached out to slap Tony lightly on the side of the head. Tony grinned at him, moved his palm off Jethro’s face, settled his forefinger against the tip of his thumb, and flicked Jethro on the side of the head.

Jethro gave him a mock glare. “I tell you I love you, and you talk about Fornell?!”

Tony sat up. “Well, you brought up Ducky first!” They grinned at each other. Tony’s smile faded. “I love you back, Jethro… you know that, right?”

Jethro nodded. “Yeah, I guess I do. And that’s why I’m not going to give up on us, even though Fornell’s right, and I probably should.”

Tony shook his head vigorously. “Fornell is completely and utterly wrong.”

Jethro sighed and looked down at the hand he was still holding. He started rubbing the back of Tony’s hand with his thumb. “No, he isn’t, not really. He told me I’ll screw up because I won’t be able to keep my feelings for you out of my decisions in the field, and I’ve already done that tonight.”

Tony leaned forward and brushed a kiss over Jethro’s lips. “I disagree, but let’s say for argument’s sake that you did. How so?”

Jethro gave Tony a summary of his thoughts while Tony was in the shower. Tony listened intently, then nodded when Jethro finished. “My turn?”

Jethro waved his free hand at him. “Shoot.”

Tony shifted his eyes away from Jethro for a moment, thinking, then looked back at him seriously. “Okay… you’re human. Doesn’t matter that you’re team leader, or were in the Marines, or are the Great Leroy Jethro Second B for Bastard Gibbs. You’re still human. And that means that the decisions you make will have emotions behind them, no matter what. Rule 10 is a good rule, but an unrealistic one much of the time. We investigate murders and terrorism… it’s almost always personal. Thing is, if it’s personal between us, we can anticipate, we can be proactive – we can expect it and deal with it. I catch you making decisions I think are for the wrong reasons, I’ll call you on it.”

Jethro considered that. “You’ve been calling me on bad decisions for years.”

Tony grinned at him. “Exactly. And you’ve always called me on it when I’ve screwed up. That’s not gonna change just because we’ve acknowledged this connection we have. Besides, you can’t hold yourself to some bizarre double standard.”

Jethro raised an eyebrow.

“You gonna tell me you wouldn’t have gone in alone after McGee if I’d been the one to start negotiating?”

Jethro thought about that one, then shook his head. “Point.”

“Thought so.” Tony leaned in, wrapping his right arm around Jethro’s shoulders and pulling him close. “We’ll figure it all out, Jeth,” he whispered in his ear. “No choice left… no way am I letting you go after what you told me a few minutes ago.” There was a pause as Jethro squeezed Tony’s hand and moved his free arm to wrap around Tony’s waist. “Although,” Tony continued thoughtfully, “I’ve always thought declarations of love should have more romance and less Fornell…”

Jethro laughed into Tony’s neck, then pulled back and tilted his head to give him a quick kiss. “Romance may not be my strongest point,” he admitted, “but I can make up for that.” He moved in and nipped Tony’s neck, causing Tony to inhale sharply. “Gonna have to be quiet, though.”

Tony moved back and looked at him questioningly. Jethro raised his arm and pointed to the wall he was facing. “Fornell.” He let go of Tony’s hand, raising his other arm to point at the opposite wall. “Fornell’s probies.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed, then he shook his head, laughing quietly. “Bastard did that on purpose, didn’t he? Got us the single bed too just to mess with us?”

“Oh, that’s a given.”

Tony snorted. “No fibbie is getting between me and you and awesome sex. I don’t care if Fornell’s got his ear pressed to a glass pressed to the wall… we are having some fun tonight, damn it!”

Jethro grinned, then stood and started to make his way into the bathroom, pausing long enough to reach back and head slap Tony.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“Confusing the Corps with the Boy Scouts... merit badges, Tony? Seriously?”

 **Having Some Fun**

Jethro finished up in the bathroom and walked out naked, his cock already half hard in anticipation. He noticed that it was dark, the only light coming from the television, which was still playing jazz, a little louder than before, but those facts slipped his mind as he stopped short at the sight of Tony naked, lying on his side on the bed, head propped up on his right hand. He was using his left to slowly stroke his hard cock, watching Jethro intently. Jethro stared a moment longer, his hand drifting to his own hardening shaft. They stared at each other for a moment, each watching the movement of the other’s hand.

Tony broke the silence, speaking in a quiet, husky voice. “Someday, Jeth, I want to come just watching you touch yourself like this. Just us stroking ourselves, telling each other how it feels, watching but not touching…”

Jethro felt his breathing speed up. He tried to say something, and found he needed to clear his throat before he could talk. “Sounds like a good idea, Tony… but not tonight.”

Tony shook his head. “No, not tonight.” He let go of himself and rolled onto his back. “Touch me?”

Jethro took a deep breath, then moved forward, bringing both his hands to the bed as he crawled onto it and over to Tony. He moved so he was kneeling over his lover, with his hands on either side of Tony’s shoulders, legs spread to straddle the younger man. He lowered his face so his lips were not quite touching Tony’s, and just hung there for a moment, breathing in Tony’s scent.

“Touch me,” Tony whispered.

Jethro complied, brushing a sliding kiss over Tony’s lips, then moving his mouth to Tony’s ear. “I love you,” he whispered, part of him surprised at how easy it was to say.

Tony responded with a low moan, reaching up to place one hand behind Jethro’s neck, pulling him down for a stronger kiss, his tongue moving over Jethro’s lips before sliding inside his mouth. Jethro made a low noise in the back of his throat and lowered his body onto Tony’s, pressing their cocks together. Tony groaned from deep in his chest at the sensation, while Jethro pulled back from the kiss to gasp and shudder. Tony arched into him, sliding his hands down Jethro’s back to his ass, squeezing both cheeks before beginning a pushing and pulling motion with his hands, making their cocks slide against each other. Jethro realized that Tony had used some lube on his cock before they started, and he rewarded the younger man with a deep kiss. He let Tony control their motion for a while, running one hand along Tony’s right side while the other ran fingers through his hair. Tony suddenly executed a rotation of his hips that made Jethro gasp and cry out softly, back arching and pressing his pelvis into Tony’s. Tony smiled at that, raising his head to kiss Jethro’s lips and then whisper “shhhhhhh….” into his ear.

Jethro couldn’t help but laugh a bit at that, burying his face into Tony’s neck. Tony angled his head to nibble on Jethro’s neck, and then moved to flip them over, so that their positions were reversed. Tony pulled back to look in Jethro’s eyes, moving his right hand to card through his hair. “Love you, Jeth. So much.” He leaned in to Jethro’s neck, nibbling and licking, slowly working his way down to Jethro’s chest. He shifted his body down along Jethro’s a bit, giving himself easy access to his nipples, moving from side to side as he alternated between each one, continuing to kiss, lick and nibble. He bit down a little harder on one, surprising a low cry out of the older man. Laughing as he continued his assault, he reached up to put a hand over Jethro’s mouth. Jethro laughed into Tony’s palm, then tried to move his head away, only to have Tony’s grip strengthen a little. Tony moved back up Jethro’s body, hovering over him to look in his eyes. “Do you want some help being quiet, Jethro?” he whispered. Seeing the question in Jethro’s eyes, he added, “I don’t need to wear my tie tomorrow,” and had the satisfaction of seeing Jethro’s eyes widen and feeling his body shiver.

Jethro reached up to grasp Tony’s wrist, moving his hand away from his mouth. He surged up, flipping Tony back over. “I’d love to play that game, Tony… but not here. Do you mind?”

Tony smiled softly, reaching up to stroke Jethro’s face. “Not at all, Jeth. Whatever you want… tell me what you want, we’ll do it…”

“Rather show you,” Jethro murmured. He kissed Tony, then copied the younger man’s actions from a few minutes ago, licking, nibbling and kissing his way down Tony’s body. He paid attention to Tony’s nipples, giving them much the same treatment he had received. He kept at it, varying the tempo of his actions until he had Tony writhing underneath him, then shifted down to Tony’s stomach, biting and nuzzling at the softer flesh. Tony gasped and laughed as Jethro’s actions tickled, yelping at one point, causing Jethro to reach up and cover Tony’s mouth with his own hand, laughing into Tony’s stomach. He could feel Tony laughing into his palm, and reached down with his other hand to grasp Tony’s cock firmly at the base, sliding his hand upward and adding a twist toward the head. Tony’s laughter turned to a loud moan, muffled against Jethro’s hand, coupled with a surprised thrust of his hips. Jethro slid his hand back down and around, then let go and moved further down, cupping Tony’s balls and gently rubbing them. Tony cried out into Jethro’s hand; Jethro grasped Tony’s mouth a little harder. He moved his leg against Tony’s prompting him to raise his leg up a bit, and then he moved his hand back to Tony’s cock, stroking the shaft again several times, running his palm over the head, gathering some lube onto his fingers. Moving his hand back down, he again palmed Tony’s balls, shifting his fingers back toward Tony’s ass, burrowing them between his cheeks, seeking out the ring of muscle. Finding what he sought, he slid his slicked fingers over it, circling the entrance before pressing in just a bit. Tony’s whole body shuddered, and he shifted his leg over even more.

Jethro raised his head and moved his hand off Tony’s mouth. “Quiet, now,” he murmured, giving Tony a mischievous look. Tony looked at him incredulously before grabbing a pillow and biting into it. Jethro chuckled and shifted so that he was kneeling in between Tony’s legs, his right hand still massaging Tony’s balls while his fingers played with his entrance. His left hand moved to Tony’s cock, and he started jacking him in earnest while his fingers rimmed and pressed onto Tony’s hole. Tony gasped and writhed on the bed, eyes shut, moaning and swearing into the pillow. Jethro carefully eased the tip of one finger past the tight ring of muscle, managing to pump the finger in and out of Tony’s body while still lightly rubbing Tony’s balls. He could feel Tony’s cock swell and harden even more in his hand, and he know his lover was about to come. He gently and slowly pushed a second finger into Tony, and leaned down – he pumped his fingers in, moved the hand on Tony’s shaft down with a twist, and swiped his tongue over the head of Tony’s cock, moving back quickly as Tony’s hips thrust up and he came with a yell muffled by the pillow.

Jethro carefully eased his fingers out, while Tony shoved the pillow away from his face, gasping and staring up at the ceiling. Leaning off to his right, Jethro grabbed a tissue and cleaned off his fingers, then dropped the tissue over the edge of the bed and crawled over to Tony, settling in and holding the younger man close.

Tony’s breathing calmed after a few minutes; it took a few minutes more for his brain to come back online. When it did he looked over at Jethro, giving him a bit of a goofy smile. Jethro smiled back. Tony took a deep breath, then sat up slowly. “Wow.”

Jethro just grinned at him.

Tony grinned back, then dropped his gaze to Jethro’s hard, leaking cock. “Lie back,” he said softly.

Jethro did so, shifting into the middle of the bed as Tony moved to give him room. Tony leaned over to the nightstand, grabbing the small tube that he’d left there, coating his fingers with some lube. Moving back over Jethro, he kissed him lightly on the lips. “Last offer on that tie,” he said, eyes sparkling.

Jethro reached out and brought the pillow over next to his face, smirking at Tony, who leaned down to kiss him again. Then Tony sat up and shuffled back on his knees. “Hang on to your hat, Jeth,” he said, laughing at the look on Jethro’s face. He reached for Jethro’s cock with his left hand, using his right arm to nudge Jethro’s leg up. He moved his right hand underneath Jethro’s balls, tickling them briefly and getting a surprised hip stutter before zeroing in with his fingers to Jethro’s hole. Jethro tensed a bit, and Tony backed off a bit, just rubbing over the ring of muscle until Jethro relaxed. He repeated the actions Jethro had used on him, getting rewarded with gasps and moans as the tips of his fingers gently made their way into Jethro’s body, just a little bit at a time, easing off every time Jethro tensed, giving him time to adjust and them moving back in. Once he could continue the penetration without Jethro tensing any more, he let go of Jethro’s cock, reaching over to grab the pillow and hold the corner over Jethro’s mouth. “Seriously,” he said, when Jethro raised an eyebrow at him. Keeping eye contact, Jethro opened his mouth and Tony gently maneuvered the corner of the pillow between his lips. Tony took a deep breath, looked Jethro in the eye, mouthed ‘love you,’ took hold of the base of Jethro’s cock again, then moved back and over and engulfed Jethro’s cock in his mouth in one quick motion, sliding his lips down the shaft and tickling the head with his tongue.

Jethro couldn’t completely stop his hips from thrusting up as he screamed into the pillow. It was so unexpected and felt so wonderful, together with Tony’s fingers thrusting in and out of his body, just a little at a time, sliding in a little further with every move. Tony slid his tongue up and down the shaft as he moved his head, letting Jethro’s cock a little further into his mouth each time he went down, swirling his tongue around the head as he came up. He could hear Jethro’s breath starting to catch, and knew he was close. He slid one finger out of Jethro’s ass, keeping the other in, moving it a bit further, stroking the inner wall until he found his prostate; he stroked over it with just a bit more pressure at the same time that he moved down to take as much of Jethro’s cock into his mouth as he could, and with another muffled scream Jethro came, releasing into Tony’s mouth in strong jets.

Tony swallowed as quickly and as much as he could, then held still, Jethro’s cock still in his mouth, as he listened to his partner’s panting moans. He turned his head enough to see Jethro’s fumbling at the pillow, moving it away from his face. Jethro looked down and their eyes met. Keeping eye contact, Tony slowly slid his finger out and his mouth off, shifting up to softly kiss Jethro’s lips. He rolled over to grab a tissue, repeating Jethro’s actions from earlier.

Jethro pulled Tony close, kissing him and then licking away the come that was still on Tony’s chin and face. Tony grinned at him. “I’ll get better with practice.”

Jethro smirked at him. “I’m looking forward to that.” He stretched out a hand for more tissues, which Tony grabbed for him, and he wiped down Tony’s chest and abs, which he’d neglected to do earlier. Tony leaned in to kiss his lips again, and the two men spent a few minutes exchanging gentle kisses.

They broke off from kissing to yawn at pretty much the same time. A quick glance exchanged, and they both moved to get under the covers. Tony grabbed the remote to shut off the television, and lay down with his head on Jethro’s shoulder, the older man’s arm wrapped around him.

Jethro stroked Tony’s hair. “Thank you, Tony.”

Tony smiled and planted a kiss on Jethro’s skin.

Just as Jethro was drifting off to sleep, Tony spoke up. “Hey, Jeth.”

“Mmm?”

“I called the front desk while you were in the bathroom… the Hilton has excellent sound proofing.”

Tony barely felt the light head slap as he drifted off.


	16. In Transit

**Conversations in a Hotel Room**

Jethro woke up gradually, coming out of a dream in which he and Tony were in a canoe, rowing upstream; Tony was looking at him, laughing, and Jethro was feeling absurdly happy.

As he became more grounded in reality, the canoe became a bed, and he realized he was horizontal. He felt Tony’s skin next to his, heard the soft sighing snores coming from right above his head. As usual, he was draped over Tony, his right arm and leg surrounding the younger man and holding him close, his head resting on Tony’s shoulder. Blinking his eyes open, he saw that it was still early, with just a bit of outside light filtering into the room through the closed curtains. Sighing, he relaxed into the mattress and pulled Tony a little closer. Tony shifted a bit, turning toward Jethro and nuzzling the top of his head in his sleep.

Jethro smiled and pressed a light kiss to Tony’s chest, not really wanting to wake him up just yet. The happy feeling from the dream he barely remembered hadn’t really faded, surprising him a bit. He closed his eyes and flashbacked to the hundreds of times he’d lain in bed like this with Shannon, holding her early in the morning while she still slept. He felt the usual regret, but it was fleeting this time, and he was able to be content that he still had the memory.

He replayed the previous night in his head, remembering sitting in the chair and questioning this relationship, then the moment of clarity when he realized that he really did love Tony. Saying it had been easy, because he hadn’t thought about it ahead of time, hadn’t been under any pressure… it just happened. And now that it had, he had no interest in taking it back. He wasn’t sure where they’d go from here, but he felt fairly certain that they’d be figuring that out together.

Jethro heard Tony’s breathing pattern change, so he knew the younger man was waking up. Tony stretched, then moved his left arm to Jethro’s side, caressing lightly. Jethro was about to raise his head and say something about getting up when Tony shifted his weight, rolling into and then on top of him, burying his face in Jethro’s neck. Tony let out a long sigh, then bit Jethro lightly, holding him in his teeth and growling. It wasn’t a sexy growl so much as an imitation of a dog, and Jethro couldn’t help but laugh.

Tony raised his head, grinning. “That’s one.”

Jethro looked him, confused. “One what?”

“Number of mornings in a row that I’m going to make you laugh at least once.” Tony looked smug. “It’s an experiment. I want to see if I can make you less of a bastard if you laugh more.”

“I thought you liked me being a bastard.”

“I do.”

“Then why –“

“Because it’s fun. And if you start being less of a bastard, it gives me an excuse to annoy you and get you back to normal.” Tony’s eyes shone with sincerity.

Jethro stared at him, then raised his hand and gave him a light head slap. Tony grinned. “See? It works!”

Jethro couldn’t help himself; he laughed again. Tony’s smile got even bigger, and he lowered his head back to Jethro’s neck. He wrapped his arms tighter around the older man, then raised his mouth to Jethro’s ear. “Meant it last night, even if I did say it second. I love you.”

Jethro grinned up at the ceiling. He ran his fingers through Tony’s hair. “When did you figure that out?”

Tony sighed into Jethro’s neck, then raised his head thoughtfully. “That I loved you? Years ago. That I loved you like this?” He raised his hand, motioning toward the two of them lying together. “Dunno. Just knew it was true last night when I said it.” He disentangled his limbs from Gibbs and sat up, leaning back on one hand, trying to tame his hair with the other. “You said Ducky told you that you loved me?” He looked at Jethro, who nodded. He stretched a bit and looked over toward the window. “Abby said the same thing to me. That it was obvious we loved each other, but that she hadn’t known it was this kind of love. Maybe I kind of knew, you know, subconsciously, that night last week when I first called you my soul mate.” His hand stilled and he looked at Jethro thoughtfully. “Don’t know that I ever would have realized it, much less acted on it, if we hadn’t had that conversation.”

Jethro nodded, smiling. “Doubt either one of us would. Makes me value your nonstop talking a bit more.” He looked at Tony, taking in all the naked skin displayed within reach, then shook his head regretfully. “Much as I’d like to act on it right now, you need to call Abby or she’ll end up interrupting something… and then I’ll be a _real_ bastard for the rest of today. Or it’ll be Fornell knocking at the door.” Tony rolled his eyes at that thought, then gave Jethro a truly lecherous once-over as the man moved to get out of bed. Jethro gave him a mock glare as he moved off the bed and walked into the bathroom, intentionally exaggerating the movement of his hips since he knew Tony’s eyes were glued to his ass.

Tony laughed, grabbing a tissue box from the nightstand and throwing it, hitting Jethro squarely on the right cheek. He dodged as the box came flying back at him, then moved to grab his cell phone off the same nightstand as Jethro closed the bathroom door. He checked the time, not too early, but Abby wouldn’t have left for work yet. Hitting speed dial number 4, he sat back against the headboard. Three rings, then Abby answered the phone. “Tony!”

“Hey, Abs.”

“Are you alright? Tell me you’re okay. Gibbs said you were the hero last night, but I expressly told him that no one should play hero, ‘cause someone always gets hurt when that happens. Why didn’t he listen to me? Why didn’t you? Do you have some sort of death wish that makes you go out there and -“

“Abs! Slow down. Getting the bad guys is kind of our job, remember? And how do you expect me to listen to you when you didn’t tell me anything like that?”

“You listen to Gibbs, so you’re listening to me by proxy. Unless he didn’t tell you not to be a hero, in which case I’m going to put Caff-Pow in his coffee!”

“Relax, Abs. Gibbs did try to stop me, at least sort of. So he’s off the hook. And if you’re going to sabotage his coffee, well, one, don’t use Caff-Pow ‘cause it’s too obvious, and two, I want a heads up so I can be nowhere near the scene of the crime.”

Abby giggled. “What, you don’t want Gibbs to _punish_ you?”

“Abby!” Tony tried to sound affronted, but he couldn’t quite manage it. “I’ll wash your mouth out with soap, little girl.”

“Try it, buster, and I’ll sabotage something of yours too.”

Tony grimaced and pulled the sheets up over his midsection. “All right, all right. But get your head out of the gutter, will you?”

“Why? Don’t want me giving you any ideas? You’re not gonna tell me you’re not sharing a hotel room!”

“No, we are. But we’re surrounded by fibbies, so we’ve got to be discreet.”

Abby snorted. “You’re in the Hilton. It has excellent sound proofing.”

Tony pulled the phone away and stared at it for a moment, then shook his head and brought it back to his ear. “Sometimes you scare me, Abs.”

“Come on, Tony! You can’t tell me you didn’t check.”

Tony grinned, but tried to keep the smile out of his voice. “I did… but I didn’t tell Gibbs.”

“Oh, evil Tony, teasing the Bossman! I love it. Did he try to stay all quiet?”

Tony chuckled. “Not gonna share Abs… except maybe one thing.”

“Oooh, tell me, tell me!”

Tony hesitated for a moment, then decided it was only fair to tell her, given how supportive she’d been. “He told me he loves me.”

Silence on the other end, then a sniffle.

“Abs?”

Her voice, when it came back, was soft. “See, Tony? I said you’d save him.”

“You know, Abs, I didn’t quite get that the first time you said it, still not getting it now.”

“You will. Ask him sometime if you don’t.”

“Ooookay.”

“When are you guys coming home?”

“Probably this afternoon sometime, assuming all the fragile people can get out of the hospital.”

“Oh, boy, now I feel guilty. I didn’t even ask. Are Timmy and Ziva okay?”

“Gibbs tell you what happened?”

“Only that they were a little banged up, and in the hospital for observation overnight.”

Tony sighed. He’d have to get Jethro to man up about bad news where Abby was concerned. “Ziva was shot in the arm, through and through, but she’s tough and will be fine. McGee’s got a concussion, he’s probably already fine. We’re headed over there after breakfast, should be able to spring them and be back today.”

Silence again, then Abby’s voice returned with a plaintive note. “Why weren’t you guys more careful?”

“We were, Abs. Intel was faulty, there was a extra bad guy.”

“Isn’t it one of Gibbs’ rules not to assume?”

Tony sighed. “Yeah, Abs, but I’m not about to mention it... I’m sure once we get to the hospital he’ll start beating himself up about that enough as it is.”

Abby made an affirmative sound.

“Listen, Abs, I gotta go… sounds like Jeth is out of the shower, and I need to get my act in gear.”

“That is so cute!”

“What – oh. I really need to work on that.”

“Don’t, I like it.”

“Maybe, but I don’t need to be calling the Boss a nickname in front of the wrong people, like, oh, say, our esteemed Director!”

“Good point. Give everyone a kiss for me?”

“I’m not kissing McGee, Abs!”

She laughed and hung up. Tony put the phone back down just as Jethro opened the bathroom door, wearing a towel. Tony looked up at him and gave him a growl, the sexy kind this time. Jethro smiled. “Down, boy.”

Tony shook his head. “I owe you something.”

Jethro looked at him questioningly. Tony got up off the bed, walked over to him, wrapped his arms around him and gave him a deep, passionate, open-mouthed kiss, complete with lots of tongue action. He even bent Jethro backwards over his arm, which had the older man grabbing at him and laughing, breaking the kiss. Setting him back upright, Tony stepped back, grinning happily. “Abby told me to kiss you for her.”

Jethro raised an eyebrow. “Abs never kissed me like _that_.”

Tony shrugged. “I may have taken a few liberties with her instructions. And if she ever does kiss you like that, remind her that I will definitely beat her at arm wrestling.” With that, Tony turned and went into the bathroom, leaving a slightly confused but smiling Jethro to get dressed.

 **Breakfast With the Fibbies**

After a quick check to make sure they’d left nothing behind, Gibbs and Tony headed downstairs and out into the parking lot, stowing their gear in the trunk of the car, then going inside to grab some food, Gibbs striding along in front, Tony just to the side and behind, like always. Making their way into the hotel restaurant, they found Fornell and his men at a large round table. A shared glance confirmed that they’d have to bite the bullet and sit with the other agents, since they obviously hadn’t gotten their food yet.

Gibbs grabbed the seat next to Roberts, who flinched and looked very unhappy. Tony didn’t bother trying to hide his smirk as he grabbed the seat on Gibbs’ other side, leaving an empty chair between himself and Foster, who gave him a small smile and a nod. The waitress came over right away, pouring them coffees and giving Tony an extra friendly smile as she took their order.

Fornell raised his coffee cup after she left. “Gibbs, DiNutzo. Nice night?”

Gibbs shot Fornell a small glare, then ignored him as he drank some coffee. Tony gave Fornell a big smile. “Thanks to you, Toby. Appreciate the single bed. Nice to know the FBI cares so much about our creature comforts.” He glanced at Foster and rolled his eyes. The FBI probie smirked and shook his head. “Sorry about that, Tony. I’d have tried to stop him if I’d known.” He looked meaningfully in Gibbs’ direction and widened his eyes at Tony. “Seriously. Really sorry.”

Tony smiled and shrugged. “That’s okay. Kinda expect it from your boss there. We managed all right.”

Tony’s quick glance around the table showed Foster with a sympathetic expression, Roberts looking even more terrified if that was possible, Fornell with both eyebrows disappearing into his hairline (no mean feat) and Gibbs coughing as he’d apparently swallowed his coffee wrong. “You okay there, Boss?” Tony slapped Gibbs on the back, getting a glare in return and a sharp but subtle kick in the shin.

Their waitress brought the food for the FBI agents; Gibbs motioned for them to go ahead and start, which they did. Gibbs’ and Tony’s food arrived only a few minutes later since the restaurant wasn’t very full, and the table was silent while they all ate. As Fornell was finishing up, he asked if Gibbs had any updates yet on the rest of his team. Gibbs told him they were planning to head to the hospital right after breakfast. Fornell said they were doing the same, to collect Vargas’ man, as they’d already called and been told he could be released. “Let me know if your people are going to be ready this afternoon; if so, we’ll all take the Gulf Stream back. Otherwise we’ll have to leave you guys here – my director is insisting on having Vargas available for interrogation by this evening.”

Gibbs nodded, then put down his silverware and finished off his coffee. Turning to Tony, he motioned toward the hotel lobby. “Gonna stop in the gift shop, get something for Abby.” Tony nodded; he’d ordered a larger breakfast and was still eating. Gibbs nodded to the FBI agents as he got up, and left.

Fornell watched him go for a moment, shaking his head. “Don’t know what’s gotten into Jethro,” he commented. “Buying gifts for a subordinate? He’s gonna give people the wrong idea about their relationship.” Roberts’ eyes widened, and Foster looked uncomfortable.

Tony glanced up at Fornell, chewing on a mouthful of pancakes. He swallowed, then spoke. “Abby’s like a daughter to Gibbs, as you well know, Fornell.”

Fornell made a placating gesture. “I know, DiNutzo, but you have to admit, it could give people the wrong idea, and that wouldn’t be good for anyone’s career. Even a rumor that an agent is romantically involved with a subordinate could be damaging, don’t you think?”

Tony wiped his mouth with his napkin and sat back, draping one arm over the back of his chair. Eying Fornell thoughtfully for a moment, he replied, “True. But Gibbs has been buying small gifts for Abby for years; she has something from every road trip we’ve been on, even if it’s just a postcard. You’ve seen part of the collection in her lab.” He shifted his arm off the back of the chair and sat forward. “And starting a rumor like that would be damaging for all parties involved, including whoever started it.” He met Fornell’s eyes squarely. Fornell gazed back impassively.

Glancing between the two agents, Foster cleared his throat and stood abruptly, motioning to Roberts, who quickly followed suit. Muttering something unintelligible, the two probies left the table. Tony never broke eye contact with Fornell; once the younger agents were gone, he sat forward. “You Gibbs’ friend, Fornell?”

Surprised by the question, Fornell sat back a bit. “Of course. Jethro and I go way back. We’ve been through a lot together.”

Tony nodded and stood up. “Then why don’t you want him to be happy?” He stared at Fornell until the other man looked away, a confused expression on his face as if the possibility of Gibbs being happy hadn’t occurred to him. Tony turned and left the restaurant, taking up a post leaning against the wall opposite the gift shop entrance, until Gibbs emerged a few minutes later.

Gibbs took in Tony’s neutral expression as he walked out of the gift shop, glanced toward the restaurant, then gestured toward the parking lot with a tilt of his head. Tony pushed off the wall, moving into his usual position, and they set off for the car, handing in their key cards at the front desk. Once in the car, Gibbs pulled a small paper bag out of his pocket and handed it to Tony. “Got ya something.”

Tony’s face lit up. “Seriously? Thanks, Jeth!”

Gibbs shifted in his seat, suddenly embarrassed. “It’s nothing special, Tony.”

Tony reached into the bag, pulling out a pewter key chain with a little Saint Bernard on it. “This is so cool.” He looked over at Gibbs. “How come?”

Gibbs shrugged and cleared his throat, then he glanced over at Tony, meeting his eyes. “Just wanted you to have a reminder of this place and what we said last night, that’s all.”

Tony smiled and reached out to grasp Gibbs’ hand. “Thanks, Jeth. Means a lot.”

Gibbs smiled at him, squeezed his hand, then let go and started the car.

“What did you get Abby?”

Gibbs held up his hand; another pewter key chain with a bat attached hung off his finger.

 **Does He Make You Happy?**

The drive to the hospital didn’t take very long. Gibbs and Tony went up to the third floor; Gibbs headed left to Ziva’s room, and Tony headed right. He poked his head into McGee’s room, and saw him dressed and sitting on the side of the bed, waiting to leave.

“Hey, Probilicious! You cleared to get out of here?”

“Hey, Tony. Yeah, the doctor signed off on me leaving, and left to go see Ziva maybe five minutes ago.” McGee wouldn’t quite meet Tony’s eyes.

Tony threw himself into a chair, and looked McGee over. “Headache gone?”

“Yeah, mostly. They gave me some pain killers in case I needed them, but I’m clear to fly home.”

“Excellent!” Tony rubbed his hands together. “Gulf Stream, here we come!”

McGee shook his head, smiling. “You are obsessed with that plane, Tony.”

“Hey, it’s a Gulf Stream!”

Tony put his hands in his jacket pockets. He momentarily got a puzzled look on his face, then pulled his hand out and grinned. “Check it out, McGee!”

McGee reached out and took the key chain from Tony’s hand. He looked at it and grinned at Tony. “Gibbs got you this, didn’t he? I remember him calling you his loyal Saint Bernard.”

Tony smiled. “Yeah.”

McGee handed the key chain back to him. The younger agent looked at the floor for a moment, then up at Tony. “Look, Tony… I owe you an apology.”

Tony looked up from the key chain, frowning. “For getting grabbed by the evil weapons dealer?”

McGee shot him a half smile. “No, for having doubted that you and Gibbs would back me up in the field.”

Tony shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Tim. We’re all good.”

“No, let me say this. When I came to in that house, I just knew that you guys were going to come in after me. I didn’t question it, it didn’t even occur to me to think about this new relationship you have with Gibbs.” He looked up at Tony, who was watching him, then glanced at the doorway, where Gibbs and Ziva were now standing. “So I’m sorry, Tony. And Boss, I know apologies are against the rules, but I am really sorry for all the things I said the other night. I should have known better, but until I was in the situation, I couldn’t get past all the insecurities in my head.”

McGee reached out to grasp the hand that Tony extended to him; the two men shook hands and Tony slapped McGee companionably on the shoulder. “Thanks, Tim.”

McGee smiled at him. “I think I’m the one who should be thanking you for saving my life.”

Tony grinned at him. “I’ll try to throw that in your face only about once a day. Maybe twice.”

McGee rolled his eyes and stood up. “We ready to go, Boss?”

Gibbs nodded. “I need to call Fornell, see if both our perps are ready to ship out. Gotta go outside to do that.”

Tony walked over to Ziva, and they were talking quietly. Her arm was in a sling and she was moving carefully, but it was clear she would be fine. They left the room, while Gibbs waited for McGee. When he’d gathered up his kit and reached the door, Gibbs gave him a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder, similar to what Tony had done. “Good job, Tim.”

McGee smiled. “Thanks, Boss.”

The team made it down to the lobby to find Fornell waiting for them, Vargas’ man Reynaldo cuffed and standing between Foster and Roberts. “About time you got here,” Fornell said.

A muscle in Gibbs’ jaw twitched. He glared at Fornell, then transferred that glare to Roberts, who went pale. That reaction seemed to calm Gibbs down; he relaxed a little and then walked past Fornell and his men. “What are you waiting for, Tobias?” he called over his shoulder as he reached the doors. “Go pick up Vargas; we’ll meet you at the airport.” The whole NCIS team smirked in unison.

As soon as they reached the airport, Gibbs called Vance. Tony got the car dropped off, and the four of them made their way to the plane, which was ready to go as soon as Fornell and the rest arrived. Tony, Ziva and McGee made their way on board while Gibbs remained behind on the phone. Tony flopped down into a seat, sighing loudly. “This is the life, guys!”

“Yes, Tony,” Ziva said. “It is the life to be shot and hit your head on stone walls and how is your leg, anyway?” She gave him one of her coy looks while fingering a knife she pulled out of her boot.

McGee glanced up from his cell phone. “You got hurt?”

Tony shrugged. “Just a few stitches, no big deal. I keep forgetting about it.”

McGee looked at him. “Well, you usually take the hard knocks, so I guess it’s okay.”

“Okay?! What were you going to do, shoot me to even the score?” Tony shot McGee an indignant look.

Ziva’s eyes widened, and she turned to McGee with a smile. “That sounds like an excellent idea, yes?”

“No shooting on the plane, I’d have to arrest you,” Gibbs said as he came inside.

“What did the Toothpick have to say, Boss?” Tony asked, turning to face Gibbs as he settled into the seat next to him.

“We get back to DC, we let Fornell take Vargas and his man. FBI’s handling the interrogation. Our part in this whole thing is done. We get back to the Navy Yard, write our reports, then go home. We get tomorrow off, back to work Friday. Got Pierce in storage, back from Marseille, and the rental car killer should be in holding there sometime tomorrow. Friday will be paperwork on those cases and interrogation, then the weekend off.” He looked at Ziva. “You’re on desk duty until the arm’s healed and you can requalify on the range.” She didn’t look happy, but nodded. To McGee, he said, “You’re clear to resume all duties as soon as Ducky says so.” Then he turned to Tony. “Same goes for you.”

“Aw, come on, Boss, it’s just a scratch!”

“Then Ducky’ll have no problem clearing you.”

Tony made a disgruntled noise. Gibbs smirked at him. “Director wants to see you when we get back.”

Tony sat up, looking at Gibbs warily. “Why?”

Gibbs shrugged. “Didn’t say.” Tony noticed, though, that Gibbs looked a little troubled.

Fornell showed up about fifteen minutes later, Roberts right behind him, Vargas and Reynaldo next, with Foster bringing up the rear. Gibbs eyed the FBI probies as they led their prisoners to the back of the plane and cuffed them in place. He turned to Tony. “Go back there and make sure everything goes smoothly.” Tony grinned at him, got up, and headed to the back as the door was shut and preparations made to take off. Ziva looked at Gibbs. “I would like to go with him.” Gibbs glanced at her and nodded. Fornell settled in to the seat she vacated, across from Gibbs and next to McGee, who had already taken a pain pill, put his head back and closed his eyes.

Fornell watched everyone at the back of the plane for a while after takeoff, then finally looked at Gibbs, who’d been staring at him.

“What?”

Gibbs glanced at McGee, then shrugged a little and looked back at Fornell. “What did you say to Tony after I left this morning?”

Fornell looked uncomfortable. “Rather not get into it, Jethro. Suffice to say he put me in my place.”

“Oh yeah? How’d he do that?”

Fornell also glanced at McGee, who seemed to be out cold. He too shrugged, then turned to Gibbs. “He asked if I was your friend. When I said I was, he asked why I didn’t want you to be happy.” He looked toward the back of the plane again, watching Tony hamming it up with Foster. “He really make you happy, Jethro?”

Gibbs looked at him for a moment, then looked out the window. “Yeah, Tobias, he really does.”

Fornell looked at Gibbs for a moment, noting the soft smile and relaxed expression on his face that seemed to take years off his age. “Okay, then. Enough said.”

Gibbs continued to look out the window, and Fornell surveyed the back of the plane. McGee’s lips curved up in a small smile as he peered through mostly closed eyelids at his boss.


	17. Back At Work

**In The Bullpen Again**

Tony flung himself into his chair at his desk in the bullpen and looked around at his teammates. Ziva had stowed her gear and was booting up her computer; her face was a bit pale and he knew she needed to get home soon and take some painkillers for her arm. McGee was already typing away, getting his report written up so that he could also get home quickly. He’d slept on the plane, but it wasn’t a long enough trip to have made a huge difference in how he felt. Gibbs was also busy at the computer, although he was glancing at both Ziva and McGee and frowning slightly. He stood, grabbing his cell phone and leaving his desk, flashing a half-smile Tony’s way as he headed toward the elevator.

Tony sighed quietly and got his own computer up and running. His report would have to be thorough and detailed; as senior field agent and the only completely reliable witness to what happened inside the house, given McGee’s concussion, it was his job to provide as much information as possible. He’d also have to justify his actions, since Vargas’ lawyers would probably try to poke holes in whatever they could. He was about ten minutes into the first section of the report when his desk phone rang. _Maybe it’s Gibbs._

“ _Very_ Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, how may I help you?”

“My office in ten, Agent DiNozzo.” _\- click-_

 _Not Gibbs. Taking phone etiquette lessons from Gibbs. Gibbs did say the Toothpick wanted to see me. Damn._

Tony stared unseeing at the screen, wondering what this was all about. In his experience, meetings in Vance’s office were not filled with sweetness and light. For a moment he remembered the sinking feeling he’d had when the team had been in that office after Jenny’s funeral, and Vance had split them up, exiling him to Agent Afloat. _God. What will I do if he does that again?_ He glanced over at Gibbs’ vacant desk. _Resign, I guess. I could get a job in the area. But… what if he somehow found out about me and Gibbs?_ The memory of Fornell’s serious nod to him as they all disembarked from the plane jumped into his head… _would Fornell have called Vance?_

After the FBI had left with their prisoners, the NCIS team had taken a few moments to let Ziva and McGee freshen up. Gibbs and Tony had waited for them in a seating area near the exit leading to the parking lot and their car. Tony had asked Gibbs if Fornell would keep his mouth shut; Gibbs had nodded and told him not to worry. Tony had then asked if Gibbs knew why Vance wanted to see him, and Gibbs really hadn’t known. Tony started to ask a series of ‘what ifs’ but had been interrupted by first McGee’s and then Ziva’s return, and there hadn’t been any time to discuss what might be coming.

Tony pulled the keychain Gibbs had given him this morning out of his pocket, and looked at it closely. The Saint Bernard dangling from the chain was standing tall, looking off into the distance, strong and proud and ready to challenge anything and anyone, and then provide celebratory alcohol from that little barrel under its chin. _Do they ever really carry those things? I guess if Vance has heard some sort of rumor, it’s up to me to get in between him and Gibbs… won’t let his career suffer because I had to spill my guts last week._

Tony sighed and wondered how long it would take to update his resume. Glancing at his watch, he locked his computer and headed for the stairs, not noticing the concerned looks from McGee and Ziva.

 **Talking to Ducky and Abby**

As soon as he was out of the building and on his way to the coffee shop, Gibbs hit speed dial 3 on his cell phone. It rang three times and he grimaced, thinking he’d have to leave a message. He hated talking to machines. But it seemed he was in luck.

“Jethro! How are you, my dear fellow?”

“Fine, Duck. How’s the conference?”

“Simply fascinating!”

“Really? “

“Oh, not the conference itself, although there have been a few speakers with interesting novel techniques. Ah, for instance, did you know that if you run a liver toxicology test –“

“Duck.”

“Yes, right. Well, as I meant to say, it’s not the conference itself that’s so intriguing, it’s actually Mr. Palmer’s attempts to woo young women.”

“That bad?”

“No, that’s just it, Jethro. He’s that good. The young man projects an aura of vulnerability that many of these young women find irresistible. The truly amazing thing is that he has no idea he’s doing it. But he’s giving our Anthony a run for his money.”

“Don’t think Tony’s gonna be offering Palmer any competition, Duck.”

“I take it things between you and Anthony are going well, then?”

“Yeah, they are. Still got some things to work out, but I think both of us are in it for the long haul.”

“Excellent, Jethro! I offer my most sincere congratulations. I am pleased that you two have found your way to each other.”

“Palmer okay with it?”

“I think perhaps he is a bit confused about it all, but he doesn’t know you very well and has had limited opportunities to observe your interactions outside of Autopsy or a crime scene. His friendship for Anthony and his respect for you are sincere, though, so you have nothing to worry about there. How is the rest of the team handling it?”

“We had a rough patch with McGee, but it’s all good now. You back on Friday, Duck?”

“Yes, we should arrive back home in the early afternoon, and we intend to come directly to the Navy yard from the airport.”

“I’ll need you to look over the team, Duck. Ziva’s been shot in the arm, through and through, will be on desk duty for a while, McGee’s concussed, and Tony’s got a few stitches in his leg.”

“What on earth have you been up to, Jethro? And what about you?”

“Joint op with the FBI went a little south. Tony saved the day. I’m fine, not a scratch on me. We all have tomorrow off, and I’ll have them see you Friday when you have time.”

“The children will be my first priority. Although I suppose referring to Anthony as one of the children would be a little ‘hinky,’ as Abigail would say, given your new relationship with him.”

Gibbs chuckled a little. “Got that right, Duck. Have a safe trip back.”

“Why, Jethro, I do believe your phone manners are improving. Anthony must be a good influence.”

Shaking his head, Gibbs flipped the phone shut and walked into the coffee shop. Minutes later he was walking out and heading back to the office. Instead of going directly to the bullpen, though, he detoured to Abby’s lab.

He didn’t attempt to sneak in this time, just breezed through the door. “Hey, Abs.”

She looked up from the box of evidence on the table in front of her. “Gibbs!” She ran to him, and he reached to hug her, but instead she grabbed the Caff-Pow out of his hand and practically inhaled it through the straw, eyes closed. She lowered the drink, sighed loudly, and looked at Gibbs. “Now tell me how everyone is,” she demanded.

Gibbs stared at her, fighting back a smile. “Caffeine trumps a hug from me, Abs?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You didn’t tell me how badly everyone was hurt, Gibbs! You don’t get a hug when you withhold information! Besides, Caff-Pows taste better when you bring them than when I have to get them myself.”

Gibbs raised an eyebrow and gave her a slightly hurt expression. As he expected, she caved immediately. “Aw, Gibbs!” She flung one arm around him, holding her Caff-Pow out to keep it safe. “I need to know the whole story, Gibbs! Never keep me in suspense! I had to get the information from Tony.”

Gibbs used his free arm to return the hug. “I’ll try to do better next time, Abs.”

Abby stepped back and punched Gibbs in the arm.

“Ow, Abby!”

“No next time, Gibbs! I don’t want anyone getting hurt again.”

Gibbs sighed. “You do know that going after the bad guys is our job, right?”

She smirked at him. “That’s exactly what Tony said this morning on the phone. You guys are so cute.”

He rolled his eyes and dug into his jacket pocket. Holding out his hand, curled into a fist, he said, “Here’s your present.”

She grinned at him and proceeded to try and open his fist; she couldn’t, of course. “Gibbs! Gimme.” He just smiled at her. “Gimme or I won’t give you those pictures of you and Tony.” He glared at her; she smiled angelically back. He sighed and opened his fist; the bat keychain sat on his palm.

Abby grabbed it, smiling. “I love it! Thanks, Gibbs!”

“Do me a favor, Abs?”

“Of course.”

“Take Ziva and McGee home with you? They could both use some looking after.”

Abby’s eyes widened. “Of course! Poor babies! When do you want us to leave?”

“I’ll call you when they’re done with their reports. Take the day off with them, the three of you do something fun and relaxing, okay?”

She stared at him. “Tony’s a really good influence on you, Gibbs.”

“So I’ve heard.”

 **A Conversation with the Director**

Tony reached Vance’s office; his secretary motioned for him to go on in. Leon Vance was sitting at the head of his large conference table, looking through some files. Glancing up at Tony, he told him to close the door and then looked back down at the papers in front of him. Tony closed the door and stood, waiting. After a brief pause, Vance closed the file, looked up at Tony, and gestured for Tony to take a seat. Tony did, at the opposite end of the table.

Vance looked Tony over. “You did a good job in New York. Gibbs told me what happened.”

Tony inclined his head slightly. “Thank you, Director.”

“You’ve been on Gibbs’ team a long time.” Vance pulled another file out of the pile and opened it; Tony saw it was his.

“Yes, sir.”

Vance glanced up at him and smiled slightly. Paging through Tony’s file, he summarized his findings. “Multiple commendations. Quite a few from Gibbs over the years.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up at that. He’d had no idea.

“Also from my predecessor. And I see here that when you took over for Gibbs for several months, the case solve rate stayed the same.”

Tony nodded. That, he’d known.

Vance closed the file and sat back. He looked at Tony for a few seconds. “Director Shepherd offered you a team leader position. You turned it down. Why?”

Tony focused his gaze on the far wall for a moment, then met Vance’s eyes. “Several reasons, really. I didn’t want to leave DC; I have a life that I like here. Gibbs hadn’t been back for very long, and he still wasn’t quite himself. I was also involved in the undercover operation and didn’t want to leave it unfinished.”

Vance nodded. “All valid reasons. And now?”

Tony looked at him, confused. “Sir?”

“If I were to offer you a team lead position now, would you be interested?”

Tony stared at him. “But you don’t like me!” he blurted out.

Vance’s eyebrows rose. He looked at Tony thoughtfully. “You’re a little off base, Agent DiNozzo. I don’t always approve of your methods, but, like Gibbs, you get the job done. Did it Afloat as well as with a team. I might prefer that you have more computer skills, but at least you’re not as bad as Gibbs in that department. As an agent, you get results. Even if I didn’t like you personally, I couldn’t argue with that.”

Tony was silent, unsure of what to say.

Vance pushed his chair back from the table a bit and leaned back, crossing his legs. He straightened the cuffs of his shirtsleeves. “Ever been to Seattle?”

Tony nodded. “A long time ago, when I was in college.”

Vance tilted his head and looked Tony in the eyes. “Team leader in the Silverdale office has submitted his intent to retire in two months. Team’s solid, but no one’s ready to take the lead. There are a few other agents in that office that are legitimate contenders, but I’d like fresh eyes out there. You’re ready. And I’ve got some promising rookies who could benefit from Gibbs’ expertise. I’d like to move a new agent to his team.”

Tony shifted position, leaning forward a bit and bringing his hands up onto the table. He drummed his fingers on the table for a moment, then looked back at Vance. “How long do I have to decide?”

Vance considered that. “I can give you a couple of weeks. After that, I’ll have to consider other options.”

Tony nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

Vance gave him a sharp nod. “Good.” He stood; Tony followed suit. “Think about it seriously, Agent DiNozzo. It would be a good move for you. You don’t need to be in Gibbs’ shadow forever. And McGee is ready to be a senior field agent.” He motioned to the door. “Go on, get out of here. Finish up what you need to, use tomorrow to rest up.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Vance gave him a brief smile, and Tony walked out of the office. He walked past Vance’s secretary without really seeing her, ending up on the landing outside MTAC, looking down at the bullpen. McGee and Ziva were focused on their computers. Gibbs wasn’t back yet.

The idea of his own team wasn’t something he’d thought much about since he’d turned down the Rota position. He really was happy where he was, and he didn’t have any driving ambition to move up the chain of command. He supposed it would be nice to run his own team again, but – movement below distracted him, and he watched as Gibbs moved to his desk and sat down. … _but moving to Seattle would pretty much kill this thing between us_. Tony had no illusions that their new connection would survive long months apart, with them on opposite sides of the country. He knew that becoming a team leader would be difficult; moving so far away and having to learn about his new team and the surrounding area would make it even more so. It would probably be close to half a year, or even more, before he’d feel he could spare so much as a weekend to devote to anything but work.

He saw Gibbs look across the bullpen at his own desk several times. Gibbs turned to Ziva and said something; Ziva looked over at him and answered, and Gibbs looked up, meeting Tony’s eyes. The two men stared at each other for a long moment before Tony broke the connection and headed down the stairs.


	18. Home

**Tony Alone**

Tony sighed as he collapsed on his couch. He wanted to get some things together to bring over to Gibbs’ place, but he needed to take a little time to unwind and think things over first.

After listening to Vance’s offer, he’d made his way to his desk, avoiding Gibbs’ stare. He’d half expected an order to accompany Gibbs into the elevator, and had been surprised to receive an e-mail from lj_gibbs instead. It had consisted of a single question mark. His response had been just one word: _later_. He’d glanced up to see Gibbs watching him, and had gotten a nod of acknowledgment. That was another surprise. A few weeks ago, Gibbs most likely would have had no regard for Tony’s need for time. Tony appreciated the effort Gibbs was going to, but wasn’t sure if it was good thing that their relationship was impacting his workplace behavior.

The entire team had worked on their reports. Ziva had finished hers first; she’d started to gather her things, and had been surprised by Gibbs’ order to sit back down. McGee had finished a little while later; as soon as he’d submitted his report to Gibbs, their boss had been on the phone. Moments later Abby had appeared and had refused to take no for an answer when she told her two friends that they were coming home with her. She’d herded them toward the elevator, stopping briefly at Tony’s desk to tell him to have fun tomorrow in a stage whisper. He’d smiled at her and told her that no, he would not be taking pictures.

It had taken him another hour to finish his report. He’d brought it to Gibbs, who had taken it and asked him quietly if he wanted to come over to his house. Tony had nodded and said he’d head home first; Gibbs had told him to take his time. So here Tony was, wondering how much time he would really be allowed to take before he got an impatient phone call, and what exactly to tell Gibbs about Vance’s offer.

Tony had to admit to himself that some things about the offer were tempting. The idea of having his own team was enticing. He thought he might be ready; this time his promotion wouldn’t be the result of tragedy, he wouldn’t be trying to live up to Gibbs’ example, and he wouldn’t be dealing with subordinates who were also friends and had a hard time accepting his leadership. He didn’t think walking in to a new office and an established team would be easy; he was sure there would be resentment, but he didn’t think the issues would be as personal as they had been with Ziva and Tim. He wasn’t worried about leaving them behind, or Abby, Ducky and Palmer… he knew they’d stay in touch.

But… he’d always visualized becoming a team leader when Gibbs retired, taking over the MCRT, being in that familiar environment. His vision of being a team leader had included time spent in Gibbs’ basement talking over cases, getting advice, sharing a drink or two. Perhaps that was silly; there was no guarantee Gibbs planned to stay in the DC area once he did retire. He couldn’t quite see Gibbs doing the whole webcam thing from a beach in Mexico, or having the patience to talk things out in detail over the phone.

That particular fantasy had been born long before he and Gibbs became involved. Now there was their relationship to consider, and for the first time since they’d started this a week ago, Tony was forced to really think about what it meant to him.

 _It’s only been a week. Would it really be that hard to leave?_

Tony thought about that. He let his mind drift through memories of meeting Gibbs for the first time, of all sorts of cases they’d worked through the years, of the first time he’d shown up at Gibbs’ house, needing to talk through the aftermath of a particularly bad case. Gibbs had always made him feel welcome, even if it was awkward at times. He’d meant what he told Gibbs earlier in the hotel; he really had known for years that he loved the older man. He’d thought, though, that it was love for a mentor, a friend, at times maybe a father figure. Somehow it had become more, or different, or whatever… he had no doubt he was truly in love. He’d chosen Gibbs and NCIS over Jeanne and love the last time around… was he going to walk away from love again?

He let his mind wander through all sorts of scenarios. In some, he stayed in DC with Gibbs. They continued their relationship. He visualized them living together. He also imagined them breaking it off, unable to keep the relationship out of work or vice versa. In others, he pictured leaving, heading off to Washington State. He pictured Gibbs happy for him, tried to imagine them sustaining a long-distance relationship, seeing each other every few months. _Not like we both don’t have a lot of vacation days piled up._

He could also visualize an emotional break-up, with Gibbs putting up walls and shutting him out of his life entirely. He had fun imagining a Hollywood ending, where Gibbs showed up at his doorstep in Seattle, dripping wet from the rain, declaring undying passion for Tony… Gibbs would have resigned from NCIS, they would buy a house together… _yeah, and in typical Hollywood fashion we’d adopt a couple of kids._ He laughed quietly at himself.

Shaking his head, he got up and went into the bedroom, grabbing enough clothes to get him through until Friday morning, if he stayed with Gibbs until they went back to work. He grinned as a thought occurred to him; going to his bedside table, he opened the second drawer down and pulled out a set of leather cuffs. He didn’t think they were far enough into this relationship to consider playing this way, but it would be a lot of fun to pull them out and see the look on Gibbs’ face. It would give them both something to think about for the future… and then Tony realized that he was assuming they had a future. _That should tell me something, right?_ He glanced at the clock and was surprised to see it was almost two hours after he’d gotten home. He hadn’t expected to be here for more than maybe thirty minutes. _Oops. Better get moving, before Gibbs thinks I’m not coming over after all._ He glanced down at the cuffs, hesitated, then put them back in the drawer, closing it firmly. After getting everything he needed out of the bathroom, he left his apartment.

Tony arrived at the house to find Gibbs’ car missing from the driveway. He didn’t think Gibbs had gone looking for him; he would have called if he had to go back to the office or if he were just wondering where Tony was. He parked his car on the street, grabbed his backpack, and went into the house. _One of these days we’ll get him to start locking doors._ He went upstairs, dumped his pack on a chair in the bedroom, then went down to the kitchen in search of a beer. He opened the fridge and found a note stuck to a beer bottle. _‘Grocery store. J.’_

Smiling, Tony grabbed the bottle, got rid of the cap and the note, and had a drink. He looked around for a moment, then headed for the basement stairs, flipping on the light as he descended. He surveyed the space, wondering if Gibbs would decide to start another boat, or, if not, what he would build. He assumed Gibbs would build something; it was difficult to imagine the Boss not sanding wood well into the night. He’d always wanted to ask if Gibbs would teach him, but had been hesitant to intrude. Maybe he would ask tonight. That made him pause. _There I go again. Seems like I already know what I want to do._

Tony walked over to some two-by-fours that were propped up against the wall. He ran his hand over the rough wood, and immediately got a decent sized splinter stuck in his thumb. “Ow! Okay, I see the point of sanding.” He tried to look at the damage, but the light wasn’t good enough for him to see it well. He sure could feel it, though. He’d take care of it when he went back upstairs. Moving away from the evil wood, he found himself in front of the workbench. The surface was neat, with everything put away. Tony glanced toward the stairs, then started opening drawers, curious to see what was in them. Most of them contained a variety of tools and all sorts of nails, screws, and pegs of different sizes. One had what looked like a set of plans, folded up. He pulled them out and opened them up… plans for some sort of cabinet or bookcase, he thought, all meticulously drawn by hand. They weren’t complete; it looked as though they were a work in progress. _Gibbs must be designing this. That’s really cool._

He put them back as they’d been, careful not to create any new creases or tears in the paper. Moving to the next drawer, he opened it, and found himself looking at the picture of Shannon that Gibbs had been talking to over the weekend. He immediately felt as if he were trespassing, and went to shut the drawer, but hesitated. After a moment of indecision, along with another glance at the empty stairs, he opened the drawer wider instead, reaching in and pulling out the picture. He looked at her face carefully, her long, straight red hair, her smile. “You’re way too beautiful to be locked up in a drawer in a basement,” he murmured. Leaning against the bench, he held the picture out a little, drank some beer, and contemplated her some more. He tried to imagine a young Gibbs, before all the tragedy, before he’d turned into the private and hard man he was now, asking a younger version of this woman on a date. He wondered if the younger Gibbs had been more like Tony himself with girls, or more like McGee, the early-Probie version. Nope, no way could he imagine Gibbs being awkward, shy, or anything other than supremely confident.

Looking at Shannon’s picture again, he spoke quietly. “I wish you hadn’t died. I wish I could have met you, and your little girl, and known what Gibbs was like before he lost you. I hope you’d think I’m good enough for him. I’ll try to make him happy.”

 _You already do._

Tony jumped and whirled around. He could have sworn he heard a woman’s voice. There was no one there, but he could hear footsteps upstairs, so he guessed Gibbs was back. He looked down at the picture again. “That was weird,” he commented, and waited, but he didn’t hear anything else. Deciding on temporary insanity, he put the picture away, shut the drawer, grabbed his beer, and headed upstairs.

 **Talking with Gibbs**

He found Gibbs in the kitchen, unloading groceries into the fridge and the cabinets. He glanced up at Tony as he walked in. “Hey,” Gibbs said. “What’cha doing?”

“Snooping in the basement,” Tony replied cheerfully.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at him. “Find anything interesting?”

“Yeah. Plans for what I’m guessing is your next project, and it’s really cool that you’re designing it yourself.”

Gibbs nodded. “Was gonna show you that at some point. Did you figure out what it is?”

Tony shook his head. “I’m thinking bookcase?”

Gibbs straightened up after putting a six pack of beer in the fridge. He closed the door and leaned back against the counter. “Close enough.”

Tony walked up to him, holding out his right hand, palm up. “The wood bit me.” He pouted slightly. Gibbs gave him a slightly disbelieving look, then took Tony’s hand and looked at it. “I don’t see any blood. You’ll live.”

Tony shoved his hand at Gibbs. “Splinter! Help?”

Gibbs shook his head and sighed, dropping Tony’s hand. “Don’t move. I’ll call 911.” He walked out of the room, muttering something that Tony didn’t quiet catch, although he thought he heard the words ‘Ducky’ and ‘children.’ Gibbs returned a minute later, armed with his glasses and a pair of tweezers. Tony grinned at Gibbs as he bent over Tony’s hand and gently dug at the splinter. Gibbs got it out and released Tony’s hand, taking off his glasses and tapping the splinter into the sink. He turned around to see Tony still holding his hand out to him. “What?”

“You aren’t done yet.”

Gibbs stared at him, then just barely failed to suppress a smile. He took Tony’s hand and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the spot where the splinter had been. “All good now?”

Tony smiled. “Yup.”

Gibbs smirked at him, grabbed a beer, and gestured toward the living room. “C’mon.”

Tony followed, and they both sat on the couch. For a moment Tony flashed back to their first kisses on this couch, in front of the baseball game, but he came back to reality when Gibbs spoke. “So. It’s later. What did Vance want?”

Tony sighed. Meeting Gibbs’ eyes squarely, he kept it short and sweet. “He offered me a team lead.”

Gibbs sat back, obviously surprised. Tony was a bit hurt by that. “What, you don’t think I’m ready?”

Gibbs shook his head. “Of course you’re ready. You’ve been ready for a few years now. I just didn’t think anyone at the Navy yard was moving on.”

Tony shook his head. “Not here, Boss… Seattle.” Tony was watching Gibbs carefully, so he didn’t miss the way Gibbs’ shoulders tensed up. He almost did miss all the expressions that flitted across Gibbs’ face… shock, anger, fear, concern… all come and gone so fast and replaced by a neutral mask. Gibbs was silent for a moment, then had to clear his throat twice before he could speak. He set his beer down on the coffee table and looked at the far wall; Tony could see the tension in his jaw. “You gonna take it?”

Tony raised his eyebrows. “You think I should?”

Gibbs waved his hand vaguely. “It would be a good career move. And you are ready, Tony. You’ll be a good team leader.”

Tony looked at him searchingly. “You want me to take it?”

Gibbs stared at him, then exploded. “What the hell kind of question is that?! Of course I don’t want you to take it! I want to kill Vance for even thinking it.”

Tony felt something in him relax, but he kept pushing. “Why?”

Gibbs shifted in his seat, then leaned toward Tony. “Because you’re a damn good senior field agent, the best agent I’ve ever worked with, and I don’t want to lose you from my team!”

Tony’s lips twitched into a hint of a smile. “Thanks, Boss.” He reached out and grabbed Gibbs’ hand. “So what does my lover have to say?” Gibbs stared at him for a moment, then gripped Tony’s hand and pulled him into a tight embrace. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said quietly. “But I don’t want to hold you back, either. You need to make the right decision for yourself.” They hung onto each other for a moment, then Gibbs sat back and looked Tony in the eye, hands squeezing Tony’s arms. “Of course, if you decide to leave, I’ll have to resort to chaining you up in the basement.” He gave Tony a half smile, but Tony could feel the slight tremble of Gibbs hands on his arms.

“Damn,” he said, “and I left my leather cuffs at home.”

Gibbs drew back a bit more and looked at him. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I almost put them in my pack, wanted to see your face when I pulled them out later.”

A small laugh escaped Gibbs’ mouth. He released Tony and sat back, picking his beer up off the coffee table and taking a long swallow. Lowering the bottle, he picked at the label for a moment, then said quietly, “When do you have to give him an answer?”

Tony shrugged. “I have a couple of weeks to think about it, but I don’t need them.”

Gibbs shot him a quick sideways glance, then nodded. “Abby will insist on a big going away party,” he said, his voice a bit hoarse. Tony shook his head, and reached for Gibbs’ hand again, but Gibbs rose to his feet and started to wander aimlessly around the room. “I’ll help you with the move, take some time off… help get you settled in.”

“Jethro.”

Gibbs turned to look at him. Tony had never seen him look quite so lost, and he really didn’t like it. He got up, moving quickly to the older man, grabbing his hand before Gibbs could move away from him. “I’m sorry, Jeth. I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression. I’m not taking the job.”

Gibbs searched his face. “Tony… why not? It’s a good move for you.”

Tony gave him a small smile. “You said that already. Maybe it’s a good move career-wise, but, appearances aside, my job is not my entire life – it’s, what, only about ninety-three percent? Seriously, though, I don’t need to take a team lead position now… it can wait until you decide to retire. I always saw myself taking over for you anyway. You think I could give up the opportunity to head-slap McGee as much as I want?” He tugged on Gibbs’ hand, leading him back to the couch, sitting down and pulling on Gibbs until he sat too. “Jeth, I meant it when I said that I meant what I said when I said that I loved you.”

Gibbs took a moment to work that through, then smiled. “Yeah, Tony?”

“Yeah. And I want to see where this is going, between us. I can’t imagine moving across the country and not seeing you every day. Besides, I’d get ulcers from worrying about not being on your six. Think McGee could have gotten you out of that car underwater?”

Gibbs shook his head. “Point.” He looked seriously at Tony. “Tony, I need to know that you’re making this decision for the right reasons.”

Tony inclined his head. “This is what I want, Jethro. I’m happy. I’ve got you, good friends, a job I love. I don’t want to start over in Seattle; I’m home here, and I want to stay. I’m making this decision for me; you just happen to benefit from it too. Besides, Vance didn’t make the offer because he’s incredibly impressed with me. Oh, sure, he said my stats are good and all, but he’s looking for a way to get rid of me and open up a spot on your team.”

Gibbs frowned. “Does he know about us?”

Tony shook his head. “Didn’t seem like it. He offered me a job; he didn’t hand me transfer orders. No, he said he wants you to be training up ‘promising rookies,’ as he put it. Also said McGee’s ready to be a senior field agent.”

Gibbs snorted in disbelief. “Like hell he is. McGee’s good, but he’s got a ways to go. He still hasn’t learned a lot of what comes naturally to you.”

Tony sighed. “Not gonna stop me from feeling guilty for taking the opportunity away from him, though.”

Gibbs shook his head. “Don’t. McGee’s gained a lot of confidence, but he could lose it all pretty quickly if he’s moved up too fast and ends up not succeeding. In the long run, he’ll be a lot better off.” He sat back, still holding Tony’s hand. “And I don’t believe for a moment that Vance doesn’t know that. He may like McGee’s computer skills, but that’s why he moved him to the cyber unit. He said that to try and use it as leverage to get you to do what he wants.” Gibbs raised his free hand and ran it through his hair. “I’m going to have a few words with the bastard Friday morning.”

Tony grinned at him. “Don’t put him in the same category as you, Boss. And you really must be mellowing out in your old age… I’m surprised you’re going to wait until Friday.”

Gibbs glared at him. “I’ll show you old and mellow after dinner, DiNozzo.”

Tony smiled and winked at Gibbs. “I’m looking forward to that.” He sat back on the couch, allowing his head to fall back. He gazed up at the ceiling for a moment, then looked over at Gibbs. “Two questions.”

Gibbs looked over at him and gestured with his free hand for him to continue.

“One, what does Vance really want? I can’t believe he really just wants you to train rookies.”

Gibbs squeezed Tony’s hand. “Agreed. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s trying some sort of power play. I thought we had come to an understanding, but I guess not. Something we’ll be discussing Friday. Second question?”

Tony sat up and looked seriously at Gibbs. “Why were you so quick to assume I’d take the job?”

Gibbs looked away and was quiet for a few minutes. Tony stayed quiet too, waiting. Finally, Gibbs cleared his throat. “Three failed marriages, Tony, and they weren’t the only ones to leave. It’s been a long time since someone I really cared about chose me over their career or when times got tough. So it was an easy assumption to make.”

Now it was Tony’s turn to clear his throat and fight back the emotions. “Okay, well, one, I’m choosing you… and two, stop breaking your own rules. Never assume, always verify, remember?”

Gibbs smiled and nodded. “If I stop breaking my own rules, we’ll have to stop seeing each other.”

“Nah, you altered rule 12, remember?”

Gibbs laughed. “That’s right, I did.” He stood up. “Hungry?”

Tony got up too. “I could eat.”

 **Other Forms of Communication**

After dinner, which included steak, potatoes, and some sautéed veggies, Jethro and Tony ended up in the basement. Tony wandered around looking behind and underneath things, which got him a puzzled look from Jethro. He shrugged. “Heard something strange earlier, thought maybe I could find something to explain it away.” Jethro shook his head, smiling, and pulled the plans Tony had found earlier out from their drawer. He unfolded the paper and spread it out on the workbench. Tony came over to stand next to Jethro, who settled an arm around his waist and pulled him a little closer while he explained what they were looking at.

“I wanted to make something for you… figured you could use something to keep things in when you’re here. These are just the outside dimensions roughed in; it could fit in the living room, if you wanted books and movies, or in the bedroom if you wanted drawers for clothes, or it could be a combination piece. Could turn it into a cabinet with doors if you want. Thought I’d let you decide.”

Tony was speechless. He couldn’t really remember the last time someone had decided to do something like this for him. “Wow, Jeth… I don’t know what to say. I mean, I didn’t expect… it’s just, it hasn’t been very long,” he finished lamely.

Jethro shifted his arm from around Tony’s waist and slapped him lightly on his ass. “Didn’t expect you to expect anything, Tony. I know we’ve only been together for a short time, but it feels longer to me. If you think about it, we’ve been involved in some way for a lot of years now. Wanted to do this ‘cause it feels right.” He tightened his arm around Tony’s waist again.

“Thanks, Jeth.”

“So – any idea what you want this to be?”

Tony reached out and traced the outline of the structure. “I would say DVDs, but you don’t have anything to play them on, really.”

Jethro smiled. “Well, maybe if you bring the movies over here, we’ll have to get what we need to watch them. Can’t stand to build something with no purpose.”

Tony grinned at him. “Would you watch them with me?”

Jethro sighed. “Yeah, Tony… I’ll at least start them, but I reserve the right to walk away from a movie if it’s stupid.”

Tony gave him an affronted look. “Would I watch stupid movies?”

Jethro simply raised an eyebrow at him.

“Okay, maybe some of my movie references could make you think that, but if there are any really stupid ones, I’ll leave them at home.”

“Good idea.” Jethro considered the plans. “What are the dimensions of those cases the movies come in?”

Tony gave him an approximation, and Jethro checked the measurements. “We’ll have to make sure, but I think I can fit four shelves in if I extend the sides up just a couple more inches. Do you want solid or glass doors… or no doors at all?”

Tony thought about that. “I guess solid.” He hesitated a moment. “Jeth… could I help you build it? Would you teach me?”

Jethro turned to look at Tony, and shot him a big smile. “I’d like that.”

Tony grinned back at him. “Gotta be a 9.4 on the GSS.”

Jethro laughed. “I haven’t thought about that in a while. Abby been after you for data?”

“I told her there was no way I was going to try to keep track of them all. But she hasn’t been bugging me about it. I think if they feel you’re happy being with me, then they don’t have to worry about you jetting off to Mexico again, so it’s safe to let their guard down.”

“Is that why they were doing it?”

“Yeah… they wanted to be able to monitor your emotional state, and you don’t make that easy, you know. Did you know before last week you kept a very consistent average? Made it obvious something was up after we had that conversation about soul mates.”

“Huh. I’ll have to watch that. Don’t want to be too predictable.”

Tony laughed. “There are some things about you that will always be predictable.”

“Such as?”

“Gee, let me think… coffee? Head slaps? Being a bastard?”

“All part of my charm.”

Tony smiled, leaned in, and kissed Jethro lightly on the lips. “Absolutely.” He went to pull back, but Jethro’s grip on his waist held him in place, and he turned to him, moving his other hand up to Tony’s neck. His lips met Tony’s again, sliding gently along their surface, the tip of his tongue moving across Tony’s lower lip. Tony’s arms came up and around Jethro, one hand coming to rest on Jethro’s ass and the other moving up to run fingers through Jethro’s short hair.

They stayed like that for several minutes, lips and tongues exploring, hands gripping and kneading. Jethro pulled back and dropped his head to Tony’s neck, licking and nipping. Tony groaned softly and let his head fall to one side, encouraging Jethro to continue. Jethro obliged, sucking hard on Tony’s neck and marking him. He then raised his lips to Tony’s ear and whispered “Mine.” Tony shuddered and pulled Jethro closer to him. “Yeah, Jeth,” he responded, with a slight hitch in his voice.

Jethro went back to kissing Tony, combining the gentle movement of his lips with a more aggressive invasion of Tony’s mouth with his tongue. Tony made a muffled sound and shifted his legs, bringing his hardening cock against Jethro’s, who responded by moving in even closer. Tony brought the hand he had resting on Jethro’s ass up to his waistband, slipping his fingers through while he moved the other hand down to Jethro’s crotch and started working on opening the front of his jeans. Jethro moved his hands to Tony’s shirt and started undoing the buttons. Tony got Jethro’s pants open and moved his hand down to Jethro’s ass cheeks, skimming his fingers over the muscular flesh and causing Jethro to thrust against him. Jethro’s hand moved over Tony’s bared chest, teasing his nipples before sliding around to his back and holding him tightly against him. He thrust lightly against Tony once, then twice more, before he pulled back to look Tony in the eyes.

“Upstairs?”

Tony nodded, and they let go of each other, moving quickly to the stairs. Tony detoured to front door to lock it before following Jethro up to the bedroom. He entered to see Jethro with his shirt off and feet bare, still wearing his jeans with the fly open. Tony’s hands moved to his own shirt, but Jethro strode over to him and stopped him from taking it off. “These,” he said, tugging on Tony’s belt. Tony obliged, toeing off his shoes and pushing his jeans off so that all he was wearing was the shirt that hung open. Jethro moved close, kissing Tony’s lips more forcefully, hands sliding down Tony’s arms to grasp his wrists and hold them in place. Tony tried to move his arm and Jethro increased the strength of his grip, causing Tony’s breath to hitch and a quiet moan to escape his lips. Jethro kissed Tony again, more gently this time, then drew back and ran his tongue over Tony’s lips before moving back to his neck. A succession of slow, gentle kisses down Tony’s neck was followed by a sudden nip, making Tony gasp and laugh. He could feel Jethro smiling against Tony’s skin before shifting down a little, moving his mouth to Tony’s left nipple. He kept his grip on Tony’s wrists, and Tony emitted a quiet whine while Jethro used his lips and tongue on first one nipple than the other, shifting back and forth and dragging his tongue along Tony’s skin as he did so.

When Tony was at the point of jerking his arms against the pull on his wrists, Jethro moved lower, sinking to his knees and biting lightly at Tony’s stomach, causing him to laugh and gasp again. Jethro then let go of Tony’s wrists and tapped the insides of his legs, getting Tony to widen his stance a bit. Tony did so, staring down at Jethro, who looked up at him as he moved one hand to Tony’s cock, hard and standing at attention. Jethro’s fingers slid up the shaft to the head, gathering the moisture there and smoothing it back down and around Tony’s cock. He slowly gripped Tony’s shaft, moving his other hand up to play with Tony’s balls. Tony’s hands flew to Jethro’s shoulders, grasping for balance, while his head dropped, his eyes shut, and the rate of his breathing increased.

His eyes shot open again and he gave a wordless exclamation as he felt Jethro’s lips on the head of his cock, then his tongue swirling around and under the head, then over the shaft as Jethro lowered his head to take more of Tony’s cock into his mouth. Tony widened his stance further, trying to keep his balance and fighting not to thrust into Jethro’s mouth. He was vaguely aware of a stream of words and sounds coming from his mouth as he felt Jethro starting to suck and lick in earnest, moving up and down Tony’s shaft as much as he could, one hand still playing with Tony’s balls while the other, fingers slick with pre-cum, moved around to Tony’s ass and started stroking the cleft between his cheeks, rubbing over the tight ring of muscle.

“God… Jeth, I – oh, yeah, that’s… fuck, that’s so – oh, _damn_ …”

Jethro’s slick finger slipped past the muscle, moving slowly, deeper inside him as Tony helplessly began shallow thrusts, pushing into Jethro’s mouth just a bit and then back onto his finger, caught between the two sensations and absolutely loving it. Jethro continued to use his tongue and suction on Tony’s cock, and slowly introduced a second finger into Tony’s ass, stroking the walls of the channel. Tony cried out at the sensation, gasping as he fought to keep the motion of his hips under control, his hands still on Jethro’s shoulders, gripping tightly. Jethro moved his other hand from Tony’s scrotum to his thigh, helping to keep Tony’s movement controlled. As Tony shifted back, fucking himself on Jethro’s finger, a third finger slipped inside just as the ones already there hit Tony’s prostate. The pleasure was overwhelming, and Tony cried out again, gripping Jethro’s shoulders even tighter as he thrust forward hard and came down Jethro’s throat.

He was only vaguely aware of Jethro swallowing, then licking to clean him off while gently sliding his fingers out of Tony’s ass. He stood, swaying slightly, as Jethro got up off his knees and leaned in to kiss Tony lightly on the lips before stepping away and moving into the bathroom. Tony blinked, shaking his head, then pulled off his shirt and moved to the bed, half falling on it. He shifted around onto his back and lay there, staring up at the ceiling.

He felt the bed shift and turned to see Jethro climbing on, jeans off, dick hard. He settled next to Tony, running his fingers through Tony’s hair, gazing at him with a slight smile on his face. Tony got his brain working well enough to smile back. “Guess I made the right decision, staying.”

Jethro grinned at him. “And I thank you for that.”

“I noticed.” Tony shifted onto his side, moving his hand to lightly grip Jethro’s cock, gathering the leaking moisture much as Jethro had before and covering his cock with it. “Lie back, Jeth.” Jethro complied, and Tony moved closer, stroking Jethro’s cock, setting up a rhythm that included a twist just under the head, with an increase in pressure on the down stroke. Jethro’s eyes closed and his head fell back; he started breathing faster as Tony gradually sped up the motion of his hand. Tony watched Jethro’s face, intent on his expressions of pleasure. He moved his free hand to caress Jethro’s hair, increasing the speed of his hand on his cock, smiling as Jethro’s hips started to thrust in time with the movement of his hand. Jethro’s hands were gripping the sheets, and he was groaning low in his throat, his mouth open. Tony leaned in to his ear and spoke quietly. “I love you, Jeth, so much. Let it go.” Jethro’s breath hitched and then he cried out as he thrust strongly into Tony’s hand and came, releasing all over his own chest. His body remained tense for a moment, then he collapsed back onto the mattress. His eyes opened and he looked at Tony, then reached up to the back of Tony’s head and pulled him in for an emotional kiss. He moved forward and wrapped Tony up in a hug, whispering in his ear, “Thank you for staying.” Tony nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet.

After a moment Tony pulled away, giving Jethro a light kiss on the lips. He moved off the bed, going into the bathroom and getting towel, part of which he dampened in the sink before cleaning himself off, then going back to Jethro and cleaning him off as well. Jethro watched him with a small smile on his face. Once Tony was done, he took the towel back into the bathroom, switched off the light, and climbed into bed with Jethro, who had already moved under the covers. Tony moved so that his legs were tangled with Jethro’s, his head resting on Jethro’s shoulder and his arm around Jethro’s waist. Jethro rubbed the side of his head against Tony’s hair. “Sleep well, love,” he whispered. Tony responded by squeezing his arm around Jethro’s waist; both men were asleep within minutes.


	19. A Day Off

**Morning**

Jethro woke slowly to the sound of heavy rain on the roof and the windows. It was morning, but he wasn’t sure what time, as it was fairly dark outside. Shifting a little and hugging Tony closer, he pressed a light kiss to his lover’s shoulder. Tony didn’t wake, but he did turn toward Jethro a little and murmured something unintelligible.

Listening to the rain, Jethro let his mind wander. The past week or so had been very… strange. _Has it really been only ten days?_ Ten days ago, Tony had just been his senior field agent and his friend. Then there were those two little words, soul and mate, and suddenly last night, for a short while, Jethro thought he was losing the first real love that he’d experienced since Shannon’s death. He felt as though he should be embarrassed for having revealed his feelings to Tony, for having indirectly admitted how much he wanted Tony to stay in his life, but he really couldn’t muster up that sort of emotion. _That’s why it matters so much that he stay… I can be real with him._

To Jethro’s great astonishment, somehow being real involved sex with a man. That was perhaps the strangest thing of all, or it would be if Jethro could think if it as ‘just’ a man… but it was Tony, and that seemed to negate some of the strangeness. _It has to be just as weird to him, doesn’t it?_ He felt as if he should be more confused than he was… which was actually not at all. It felt right, even though before Tony said those two little words he had never, not once, thought of having sex with his senior field agent. Not even that time they rented the apartment from the building manager who thought they were a couple. _Wow, that was a long time ago._

Jethro’s bladder was starting to make its presence felt. He gently disentangled himself from Tony – _wonder why I’m always imitating a blanket with him_ – and headed into the bathroom. He hesitated when he came back out; normally he wouldn’t go back to bed, but between the rain and no work to worry about and Tony still in there… he climbed back in without thinking too much about it.

He snuggled in next to Tony; as soon as he settled and closed his eyes, Tony made a growling noise and rolled over to lie on top of Jethro, who grunted in surprise as the air was forced out of his lungs. Tony laughed into Jethro’s neck, and then shifted over to his right so he was lying half on and half off of him. Jethro turned his head to look at Tony’s face, which was half hidden by Jethro’s shoulder and the sheet they were under. One sleepy eye was looking back at him; Jethro smirked and pushed off with his right arm and leg, trying to turn the tables on Tony and reverse their positions. Much flailing of limbs and laughter ensued as Tony resisted being turned onto his back. Finally, though, Jethro was lying on top of Tony, grinning in triumph.

Tony flung his arms to the side and rolled his eyes. “Using your super-powered Marine moves is cheating.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Is.”

“Isn’t.”

Tony smiled. “I’d like to buy an argument, please,” he said in a fake British accent. “Is.”

Jethro smirked at him. “Is not,” he replied, and then he stuck his tongue out at Tony, who laughed and waved his hand in a gesture of surrender. “Let me up, Jeth, I need to hit the head.”

Jethro rolled off Tony and watched him get up and walk to the bathroom. He grabbed the tissue box on the nightstand and threw it accurately; it hit Tony on the ass. Tony whirled around and shot a mock glare in Jethro’s direction. Jethro shrugged. “I owed you that.”

Tony just grinned in response and disappeared into the bathroom. Jethro thought about getting up, but decided he didn’t feel like it. A few minutes later his eyes narrowed as he saw the handle on the bathroom door turn very slowly and quietly; he leapt off the bed as the door flew open and Tony charged through, diving onto the mattress where Jethro had been. Jethro then jumped on top of Tony; after a fair amount of wrestling and tugging at the sheets, both men were back where they’d been just before Tony had started it all, breathing heavily and laughing. “That’s two,” Tony said smugly.

Jethro shook his head and reached out to ruffle Tony’s hair. “You keep making me laugh in the mornings and no one at work is going to recognize me.”

Tony shifted from his back to his side, facing Jethro. “Would it be such a bad thing if the second B didn’t stand for Bastard anymore?”

Jethro smiled. “With you and the team, no, it wouldn’t. But with everyone else…”

Tony nodded. “I’ll be sure to do something irritating every morning to make up for making you happy.” He snuggled into Jethro’s side, wrapping both his left arm and leg around him. He kissed Jethro’s shoulder, then asked, “What do you want to do today?”

Jethro listened to the rain for a moment, then said, “Lay here for a while and relax. Go shopping for wood, see what you want that cabinet made of. Hang out at your place for a while.” He paused, then continued, “I guess later I actually do need to get a few things done, like laundry.”

Tony sighed. “I hate laundry. But yeah, I agree. We’ve barely been apart this past week, and I’ve got stuff to catch up on too.”

Jethro shifted over a bit, propping his head on his hand and looking at Tony. “D’you think it’s strange that we’re getting along so well?”

Tony’s brow furrowed, and he looked at Jethro. “We’ve always… ok, well, most of the time we’ve gotten along just fine. Why should it be any different now?”

Jethro shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. “Was thinking before you attacked me. It’s just so easy, being with you, and if I think about it, it’s kinda weird.”

Tony laughed. “Yeah, I guess it is. Especially the sex part, huh?”

“You always were good at seeing right to the important stuff.”

Tony scoffed at him. “Yeah, after you head slap me for going off track with movie references. Which, I would like to point out, are often very relevant and have solved more than one case.” He reached up and lightly touched the side of Jethro’s face. “Way I see it, those romance writers were right, some of them. It’s the person that matters, not necessarily the body. And I guess it means that how we feel transcends gender lines. I’m thinking, if one of us were a woman, or even if we both were, we’d still be together. We just happen to both be guys, that’s all.”

Jethro raised an eyebrow, giving Tony his best ‘what planet are you from’ look. “How exactly do you know what those romance writers were writing?”

Tony grinned. “Research into the female mind.”

Jethro rolled his eyes at that one. Tony’s grin faded a bit, and he ran his fingers along Jethro’s temple and down to his neck. “Although I guess I don’t need that sort of intel anymore.”

Jethro looked at him seriously. “And you’re okay with that?”

Tony shifted, propping himself up on his right arm, getting level with Jethro. “Definitely.” He leaned in and kissed Jethro lightly, just brushing his lips over his lover’s. Jethro’s eyes closed as he returned the kiss, stroking Tony’s side. Tony’s hand did the same, moving over Jethro’s skin, then reaching around to his ass and pinching.

“Ow,” Jethro muttered into the kiss. Tony chuckled and they pulled apart, both shifting back down into the bed. Tony stretched and yawned.

“Wanna just lie here and listen to the rain and fall asleep?” Tony asked.

Jethro nodded; Tony snuggled into his side again, and they did just that.

 **Afternoon**

Tony and Jethro walked into Tony’s apartment late in the afternoon. They’d eventually gotten up sometime mid-morning, showered, eaten, and gone out to Jethro’s favorite lumber yard, where Tony had gotten a crash course in the pros and cons of different types of wood. Tony had wanted walnut, but Jethro advised against it because the dust from that particular wood could cause respiratory issues. Tony had readily revised his opinion at that point. After much discussion concerning exactly how involved Tony wanted to be in the actual woodworking, they’d settled on beech, which could be stained to the darker color that Tony liked in the walnut. They planned to return over the weekend to get the wood, after Jethro measured a DVD case and finalized the plans for the cabinet.

Jethro headed right to the living room as Tony shut the door. “Beer?” Tony called out, listening for an affirmative grunt before moving into the kitchen. He caught up with Jethro in time to see him writing down measurements for the cases. Jethro returned the DVD to its place on the shelf, pocketed his tape measure, and turned to Tony, accepting his beer with a smile. They both went to the couch and relaxed, their poses mirroring each other with feet in socks propped on the coffee table and beers raised to their mouths simultaneously.

Tony gazed absently around the room, noting that he hadn’t been there enough recently to mess it up much. He looked over at Jethro and saw a pensive look on his face. “Wha’cha thinking?”

Jethro glanced at Tony. “I’m thinking you should hold off saying anything to Vance until you have to.”

Tony nodded. “You want to find out what his game plan is.”

Jethro saluted Tony with his beer before taking a sip. “Yeah. I may get something out of him tomorrow morning. If you take your time letting him know about your decision, I may be able to figure out how to keep him from screwing with the team again.”

Tony fidgeted as a thought occurred to him. “You don’t think we have another mole, do you?”

Jethro snorted. “After what happened to Lee, you think anyone’s going to be tempted?”

Tony sighed. “Greed and fear can be pretty motivating, Jeth.”

Jethro shrugged. “True. But I don’t see Vance being subtle about something like that. I think this is something else.”

“Well… he gave me a couple of weeks to think things through, so I don’t need to say anything for a while.”

“Good.” Jethro had another swallow of his beer, then gestured to Tony. “Call Abs. Let’s get an update on McGee and Ziva.”

“Good idea.” Tony grabbed his cell, punched the right speed dial number, then put the phone on speaker and set it on the coffee table. Abby picked up on the third ring.

“Tony! How are you? How’s your leg? How’s Gibbs? Have you guys gotten out of bed at all today?”

Tony grinned, shaking his head, while Jethro rolled his eyes. “Abby, you really think we’d be calling you if we were still in bed?” Tony asked.

“A girl can always hope!”

“Not gonna happen, Abs,” Jethro said. “How are McGee and Ziva doing?”

“Gibbs! You snuck up on me over the phone! I don’t think you’ve done that before, at least not when we aren’t at work.”

Tony grinned and leaned in to whisper in Jethro’s ear, “The legend grows.” Jethro reached out and ruffled Tony’s hair, grinning when Tony flinched, expecting a head slap.

Abby was still talking. “Tim’s doing good. He still has a bit of a headache, but he’s eating okay and beating us at poker. Ziva’s arm is sore, but not enough to take pain killers.”

Tony leaned toward the phone. “Strip poker?”

“Ooh, good idea! You guys want to come over?”

Jethro shook his head. “We’ll pass, Abs.”

“Party pooper.”

“Jeth has to do laundry,” Tony said. “I could come over.”

Jethro reached out and smacked Tony lightly upside the head. “Not sharing.”

Tony grinned and swatted Gibbs right back. “Just kidding.”

“Aw, you guys are so cute! We could take this to webcam, you know.”

“We’ll pass on that too, Abs,” Jethro replied.

“You’re no fun, Gibbs. Tony, work on him, will you?”

Tony sent Jethro a lecherous look. “Oh, planning to, Abs.”

Jethro reached out to poke Tony hard in the side, making him laugh. Abby sighed loudly. “We have got to hang out more. I feel like the rest of us are missing everything.”

Jethro chose to ignore that. “Remind McGee and Ziva to see Ducky first thing tomorrow. He should be back from his conference.”

“Will do, Tibbs!”

Tony and Jethro looked at each other, confused. Tony turned back to the phone. “What was that, Abs?”

Abby laughed. “Ziva’s been complaining about Larry Johnson in Legal again. She tried calling him this morning, and he won’t talk to her. She’s still all pissed about the Tiva thing. So I said you two need a combo name, and we decided you guys could be Tibbs.”

There was a noise in the background, and then McGee’s voice came through the speaker. “That was all you, Abby. We had nothing to do with it.”

“No combo names, Abs.”

“Gibbs, you’re ruining all my fun!”

“Bye, Abs.” Jethro flipped the phone shut before Abby could start inventing more pet names for them.

Tony was laughing. Jethro turned to look at him. “How _is_ your leg? I almost forgot about it.”

Tony quieted down and shrugged. “It’s fine. I practically forgot about it myself.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” Jethro finished off his beer, then leaned in and brushed his lips lightly over Tony’s. “I’m gonna head out. Wanna finish up those plans and do that laundry.”

Tony nodded, reaching out to run his hand up Jethro’s arm and squeeze his shoulder. “Okay, Jeth. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Jethro got up and carried his beer bottle into the kitchen. He came back out and almost bumped into Tony, who reached out, grabbed his arms, and pulled him in for a long, slow kiss. After Tony pulled back, he smirked at Jethro. “Have pleasant dreams tonight, Jeth.” Tony let go and ran his fingers through Jethro’s hair. Jethro grinned at him and left, thinking he would definitely have some good dreams tonight.


	20. Business As Usual

**At Homes Alone**

 _Something wasn’t right. Sure, the bullpen looked normal enough, with McGee and Ziva working on their computers and making calls, but Gibbs’ desk was empty. The computer was shut off, the phone was silent. Tony turned, asking the others where Gibbs was, but they ignored him. Frowning, he turned back to the desk, only to find its surface bare: no computer, no phone, everything gone. He flashed back to Kate’s empty desk and felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. He turned to McGee, to demand an answer, but McGee was talking to Vance; they were both laughing. So he turned to Ziva, but she had left her desk and was walking up the stairs to MTAC. He looked at the empty desk again, then strode to the elevator. He got in, hitting the button for the garage. He’d go to Gibbs’ house, find him there, get an explanation. The elevator doors opened, and Tony walked out into Gibbs’ basement. It was also empty. No boat, no wood, no tools, no Gibbs. Tony made for the stairs, calling Gibbs’ name. He heard a sound and turned to see a beautiful woman standing in the middle of the floor, colorless, like one of his old black and white films. “Where is he?” Tony asked. “You’ll find him Tony. But you have to do it soon. There’s so little time left.” “Shannon? What do you mean? What’s wrong?” Shannon only shook her head, and Tony saw a tear slide down her face. “Please,” she said, “find him soon.” Then her image flickered out, and Tony saw a silhouette of a man replace her. Too short; it wasn’t Gibbs. Annoyed and a little nervous, Tony moved forward, ready to demand some answers. The man also moved forward into the light, and Tony met his eyes. They were cold, assessing, soulless. “It’s too late,” the man said._

Tony startled awake, his heart racing. He sat up, looking wildly around his bedroom, expecting to see those empty eyes watching him. “Shannon?” he called out. Then he wished he hadn’t, because he felt extremely stupid. He also felt as though he’d somehow overstepped, dreaming about Gibbs’ first love, as if only Gibbs had the right to do that. Sighing, he collapsed back down onto the mattress, drawing the sheets up around his shoulders. “Damn it,” he said, his voice loud in the quiet apartment, “how can I miss him this much already?” Shifting around, he resolved to forget the dream and to make sure he and Gibbs spent the next night together. He let his mind wander, waiting for his body to relax, and fell asleep imagining playing strip poker with Gibbs.

Gibbs, meanwhile, was down in his basement, working on the plans for the cabinet. He’d gone upstairs to sleep a few hours ago; he’d managed to doze off once or twice, but not for long. He kept thinking about the upcoming confrontation with Vance, knowing he needed to keep his cool and not say anything that would get Tony transferred. That would get him thinking about Tony, which made it difficult to sleep. _Maybe I should ask Tony to get me that giant teddy bear after all._ But a teddy bear wouldn’t fit the bill for some of the reasons Gibbs missed him. Gibbs had let his hand drift to his groin, but after a moment had changed his mind and gotten up to come down to the basement. He’d rather work on the plans than get a sexual release that would only make the bed seem even emptier afterwards.

Gibbs used the measurements he’d taken of the DVD case to make some adjustments to the cabinet’s dimensions. _Four shelves, and wide enough to fit a good portion of Tony’s movies._ He smiled a bit as he remembered Tony’s delight when Gibbs agreed to try watching some movies with him, and his promise to leave the stupid ones at home. He stepped back and considered the design, then sketched in a rough outline for a pair of drawers to fit underneath the shelves. That would give Tony some more space to store things he might want to bring over. Gibbs realized he was assuming Tony would be here at the house a lot; he gave himself a mental head slap and decided he would ask Tony if there was enough drawer and closet space at the apartment for him to keep some of his own things there. _Not a good idea to make assumptions_ , he warned himself.

Gibbs worked on the plans for the drawers, making some alterations here and there, and then started a separate sketch for the cabinet doors. He realized after a bit that he was humming quietly while he worked; that gave him pause, as it was something he hadn’t done since Shannon and Kelly had died. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, and spent a few minutes just staring down at the plans, trying to decide. Finally he shrugged; introspection without bourbon wasn’t his favorite thing. And there would be no alcohol tonight; he didn’t need a headache clouding his judgment when he had it out with Vance.

He went back to his sketch, roughing out the dimensions for the doors, deciding on fasteners, and then trying to puzzle out a design for the panels themselves, something that would suit Tony. He realized he was humming again but didn’t really pay much attention, until he thought he heard another voice join with his. He stopped, listening. The sound continued, feminine, soothing and happy, and as he listened he realized the humming was the tune to a song Kelly had loved, and had often demanded her parents sing for her. Gibbs had never thought much of his singing voice, but for Kelly… he realized he’d been humming that song the whole time. He smiled slightly, and instead of humming began singing the song quietly, listening as Shannon’s voice joined in while he continued to think about Tony and the plans for the doors.

 **Morning In The Bullpen**

Tony strode into the bullpen, tossing his backpack into its customary spot as he came to a stop between his desk and Ziva’s. He turned neatly in place and looked at Ziva, noting that she seemed a little tired. “Zee-vah!” he greeted her, as he moved forward, resting his palms on her desk. “How are you this fine morning?”

Ziva looked up at him, disgruntled. “I am not a happy hiker, Tony. So go be cheerful somewhere else.”

Tony straightened up, pouting slightly. “Camper, Ziva. And why not?”

She sighed. “I did not sleep well. My arm was bothering me, and Abby and McGee were talking late into the night and I could not shut them out because the pain was distracting.”

Tony considered that. “Maybe you should take the day off.”

She glared at him. “If I do that, Ducky will just be that much more annoying, checking on me too often and possibly delaying my return to active duty. I do not wish to be stuck at a desk any longer than necessary!”

Tony nodded. “Good point. So what were Abby and McGee talking about?”

Ziva sighed a looked a little uncomfortable. “I tried not to listen. I do think you should go talk to Abby, though, sometime today.”

Tony grimaced. “Me? Why not you? You’ve got the girl thing going on.”

Ziva looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “How kind of you to notice. Yes, Tony, I am a… girl, but I am still not comfortable with girl talk.”

“And you think I am?! In case _you_ haven’t noticed, Zee-vah, I am all man.”

Ziva looked him up and down slowly, as Tony drew himself up to his full height and sucked in his stomach. “Yes, you are a man, Tony,” – she lowered her voice – “but you cannot deny that you are now in a relationship with a man, which gives you some perspective that Abby might appreciate. Besides,” she leaned in conspiratorially, and Tony leaned forward too in anticipation, “I know why you were so interested in joining our poker game yesterday.”

Tony grinned at her. “And why is that, Probie-girl?”

She shot him an irritated glare, but erased it quickly, turning it into a sultry look. He grinned wider and leaned in a little closer. “You wanted to see McGee naked,” she said.

Tony jumped back as if she’d threatened him with a knife. “What?! No! I thought McGee was the one who hit his head, not you!”

“He was, and he has the headache to prove it,” McGee said. Tony turned to see the younger man moving to his desk. Shooting a frown Ziva’s way while she smirked at him, he went over to his teammate, who was looking a little pale.

“Still? You sure you should be here?”

McGee sighed. “Gibbs would insist I see Ducky anyway. So I might as well be. And I could use the distraction.”

Tony narrowed his eyes as he looked at him. “This need for a distraction have anything to do with Abby?”

McGee shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, I guess.” He looked up at Tony. “Could you go talk to her? She’s kind of upset.”

Tony stepped back. “Since when did I become the advice columnist for NCIS?”

“Since you lost your job as field agent for not getting any work done, DiNozzo.” Tony whirled around to see Gibbs walking past, heading toward the stairs.

“Uh, morning Boss!”

He caught a quick wink from Gibbs as he moved back to his desk, then did a quick about turn as Gibbs issued an order while taking the stairs two at a time. “The three of you, get down to Ducky and get checked out.”

“He’s not in yet, Boss,” McGee called out. Tony did a reverse about turn and moved toward his desk again.

Gibbs paused on the stairs. “Then refresh your memories about our two active cases. Interrogations are today. See Ducky as soon as he gets in.”

“On it, Boss!”

Tony finally made it to his desk, calling up the computer files on Pierce first. He glanced over at Ziva, who had picked up her desk phone.

“Ziva David for Larry Johnson,” she said. There was a pause. “This is getting ridiculous! Does the man not work here anymore?” She snarled something Hebrew into the phone and slammed it down.

Tony and McGee exchanged glances, and then looked at her. “Ziva,” McGee said, “why don’t you just go find him?” Tony nodded in agreement.

Ziva made a sound suspiciously like a growl. “I do not know what he looks like, and I certainly do not wish to start a game of cat and mouse and end up chasing him all over the Navy yard!”

“You don’t know what he looks like? Why not just pull up his file?” Tony asked.

She shot him a narrow-eyed glare. “I tried. There is no picture available. Something about a corrupted file.”

Tony looked over at McGee. They shared a smirk. “We’ll just have to fix that, won’t we, Tim?”

McGee smiled. “I think so, Tony.”

Just then, Tony’s desk phone rang. “ _Very_ Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. How may I help you?”

“Ah, Anthony! I have just arrived, and I see that Jethro left me a note asking me to check on the three of you right away. Would you care to come down to Autopsy?”

“We’ll be right down, Ducky. Welcome back.”

“Thank you, my dear fellow. It was a very enlightening trip. You and Mr. Palmer should have much to discuss.” With that, Ducky hung up, leaving Tony giving the phone a confused look. He shook his head, then stood, motioning to the others. “The Duckman has summoned us. Let’s go, Team!” He gestured grandly toward the back elevator, and led the way.

 **Confronting Vance**

Gibbs strode quickly past Vance’s secretary, who wasn’t able to get even part of a word out before he opened the door forcefully. Vance was sitting behind his desk, pen in hand, going through some files. He was also giving Gibbs an irritated look. “Good morning to you too, Agent Gibbs.”

Gibbs moved until he was standing in front of Vance’s desk, maintaining constant eye contact. “When are you going to stop messing with my team, Leon?”

Vance raised his eyebrows and sat back in his chair, dropping his pen and moving one hand up to his face, stroking his chin. “DiNozzo talked to you.”

Gibbs just stared at Vance, who sighed, tilting his chair back a bit. “Expected he would,” Vance continued in a conversational tone, “but I thought he’d wait a bit longer.”

Gibbs remained silent.

“So,” Vance said, meeting Gibbs stare with his own, “what’s the problem? You don’t think he deserves the promotion?”

Gibbs’ eyes narrowed. “Of course he does. But I’d appreciate it if you’d keep me informed about decisions affecting _my_ team.”

Vance shifted, straightening his jacket sleeves before sitting forward a bit. “I thought we’d established that I’m the one sitting in this chair. This is my office, and NCIS” – Vance spread his arms wide – “is mine as well. Your team is _my_ team, and if I want to make some changes, I don’t have to ask your permission.”

“No, you don’t have to ask permission, Leon. But,” – Gibbs raised his voice – “you sure as hell need to remember what it’s like to be a field agent!”

Vance pushed himself up out of his chair. “And what makes you think I _don’t_ remember, Agent Gibbs?”

Gibbs’ arm came up, and he pointed at Vance’s face. “The fact that you keep trying to tear apart a team that goes out there every day and solves cases, that’s what makes me _know_ you don’t remember. We’ve been together a long time and we trust each other, Leon!” Gibbs practically spat Vance’s name out of his mouth. “And it’s because we trust each other and we know how we all work that we are so good at what we do. Every time, every _damn_ time you mess with that, you put us all at risk.” Gibbs dropped his hand and stood there, glaring at Vance, nostrils flaring a bit as he tried to keep in control.

Vance was the first to break the stare. His jaw clenched and he looked around the room, focusing on the framed pictures of boxers. His eyes roamed over them for a moment, then he visibly relaxed and sat back down. “You’re wrong, Gibbs. I do remember. But I’m not a field agent anymore, and I have a responsibility to this agency to see the big picture and work within that. Sometimes that means breaking up a good team in order to move people to where they can shore up the weak spots. I happen to think DiNozzo is the right man for the job in Seattle. Just like you were the right man for the job to track down Lee when she went bad. I had to break up your team then, and if I have to do it now, I will.”

Gibbs’ hand clenched into a fist, but other than that all he did was raise an eyebrow. “You gonna force a transfer on DiNozzo if he decides to turn it down?”

Vance moved forward abruptly, resting his elbows on his desk. “Is he turning it down?”

Gibbs shrugged. “He said he’s got some time to think about it. So? You gonna force it?”

Vance stood and crossed in front of his desk; Gibbs turned to face him. “I might. He’s worked with you for a long time, and I need fresh eyes out there.”

Gibbs met Vance’s stare. “I told you before, Leon… the team needs him. Pick someone else to be your eyes.”

Vance looked at Gibbs seriously. He started to say something, then apparently changed his mind, closing his mouth. He tilted his head slightly. “You going to stop him if he decides to go?”

Gibbs shook his head slowly. “No… no, I won’t stop him if he makes that decision. But I won’t just sit by if you make that decision for him.”

Vance considered Gibbs for a moment, then turned and sat at the table in front of his desk. He gestured toward a chair, and after a pause Gibbs sat too.

“DiNozzo tell you why I offered him the transfer?”

Gibbs inclined his head. “He said you told him McGee’s ready for a promotion.”

Vance gave a half smile. “What else did DiNozzo say.”

“Something about me training probies. I’m not an elementary school teacher, Leon. I pick my own team.”

“Trust me, I noticed.” Vance reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a toothpick. He chewed it for a moment. “DiNozzo takes the promotion, you’ll get to choose from a set of probies. All promising agents, all could learn a great deal from you. McGee gets DiNozzo’s job; he’s got a lot more NCIS experience than DiNozzo had when he became your right hand man.”

Gibbs kept his gaze firm. “Tony had several years as a law enforcement officer before coming to NCIS, and he’s a natural investigator. McGee’s good, but he’s still learning.” He looked away, falling silent for a moment. Then his gaze went back to Vance. “And if Tony turns down this promotion?”

Vance stared back at Gibbs, only the toothpick moving. “I won’t force the transfer. But you’ll owe me. Big.”

Gibbs’ eyes searched Vance’s for a moment, then he nodded once. Vance regarded him seriously, then shifted his gaze to the door and back. Gibbs got up, shot Vance a slight, sarcastic smile, and left, leaving the door open behind him.

He reached the railing of the platform outside of MTAC and looked down to see an empty bullpen. He turned and made for the elevator and Autopsy.

 **Evaluations**

Gibbs walked into Autopsy and stopped, grinning at the sight before him. Ziva and McGee were standing near one of the autopsy tables, apparently giving Tony a hard time. Tony was sitting on the table, wearing his shirt and boxers, legs and feet bare. Ducky was leaning over, peering at Tony’s leg and prodding at the stitched area. Gibbs folded his arms and leaned against the wall, letting his eyes travel over Tony’s legs and enjoying the fact that he could do so… everyone there was in the know.

Tony was sitting with his arms crossed over his chest, looking petulant. “I still don’t see why I had to take off my pants. You didn’t make McGee or Ziva take off any clothes.”

Ducky glanced up, shooting Tony an irritated look. “I suppose, Anthony, that you would have liked me to have shaved Timothy’s head in order to evaluate his headache?”

Tony brightened up at the thought. “I’m all for that.”

McGee rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Tony. You’re a real pal.” Tony gave him a wide smile.

Ducky went back to prodding Tony’s leg, still talking. “And there was no need for Ziva to disrobe; I have the x-rays and don’t need to do more at this time, as she won’t be removing that sling for another couple of days.”

Tony sighed. “Well, I definitely don’t see why the peanut gallery needs to be here for this.”

Ziva smiled at him. “But Tony, you are always telling us how wonderful you are; this is just an opportunity for us to get a good look.” She tapped her finger to her chin. “I must say, though, your legs are not quite as nice as I seem to remember them from our time undercover several years ago.”

Tony’s jaw dropped, and he was about to retort when Gibbs pushed off the wall and walked up to them. “I happen to think they’re very nice legs,” he commented.

Ziva turned toward him, obviously embarrassed. “Oh, Gibbs… I am sorry.”

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at her. “For what?”

Ziva’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Obviously unsure of how to salvage the situation, she shut it and looked to McGee for help, but he was busy pretending to be very interested in the autopsy instruments Ducky had laid out on another table.

“Ha!” Tony said.

Gibbs shot him an amused look. He turned to Ducky, who was applying a new bandage to Tony’s leg. “What’s the verdict, Duck?”

Ducky sighed. “Ziva is obviously restricted to desk duty. The injury isn’t too serious, more painful than anything else, and she’ll need to start exercising the arm as soon as possible – but not, my dear,” – as he turned to face her – “until that sling comes off and you have checked in with me first.” She nodded. “I would estimate three weeks before she can return to field work, but that is a rough guess only. We’ll have to see how she gets on.”

Gibbs nodded and glanced at McGee. Ducky continued. “Timothy still has a mild headache. Nothing to keep him from doing his work, really, but I would restrict him to desk duty until the headache has been gone for a day and his appetite is fully returned. He has also admitted to some lack of focus, so I would suggest that he not push too hard for the next day or too.” He finished with Tony’s leg. “You may put your clothes back on, my boy. Tony’s leg is fine. The bullet didn’t do more than damage the skin, just enough to require the stitches. As long as he keeps the area dry and clean, he is fine to return to the field immediately.”

Tony’s sigh of relief was obvious. Gibbs shot him a grin, and gave him a quick once over when it seemed the rest of the team wasn’t looking. Tony turned slightly red in the face and couldn’t quite suppress a smile. Gibbs watched Tony finish dressing, then turned to find Ducky looking at him and smirking. He shot his old friend a quick smile, then looked over at his team. “Alright, you heard Dr. Mallard. Back upstairs, review the files. Pierce is up first. I’ll interrogate, the rest of you observe.” Ziva started to protest, but Gibbs cut her off. “Neither you nor McGee are one hundred percent, and I don’t want any mistakes in there. Pierce’s case is pretty cut and dry, but let’s play it safe for once. And our rental car killer is too dangerous to let slip on any sort of technicality.”

Ziva and McGee nodded and headed for the door out. Tony hesitated. “Ah, Boss?”

Gibbs turned to look at him.

“Mind if I take a few minutes and check in with Abby? Apparently she’s upset about something; both McGee and Ziva said I should talk to her.”

Gibbs nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll swing by in a few.”

Tony headed out. Gibbs turned to look at Ducky, who was smiling. “Where’s Palmer?” he asked, more as a stalling technique than anything else.

Ducky chuckled. “The poor boy was so exhausted from his active social life at the conference that I told him to take the day off. Now that Tony is, shall we say, ‘off the market,’ our Mr. Palmer should do quite well for himself.”

“I thought he had a girlfriend,” Gibbs said.

Ducky tilted his head. “They are ‘on a break, but not broken up’ according to our budding Lothario. I confess that there are times I do not truly understand young people.”

Gibbs grinned at him. “Many, many times, Duck.”

Ducky regarded Gibbs seriously. “I take it you understand one younger person quite well, Jethro.” His eyes twinkled a bit. “Abigail showed me pictures this morning… from your dinner Monday night?”

Gibbs felt his face heat up a bit, but he smiled. “Yeah, things are going well.”

Ducky laughed. “That, my friend, was quite obvious. I am pleased for you both. And I believe we must have a get together to celebrate your ‘getting together.’ Perhaps at my new domicile… it could be a party for you and a house warming for me.”

Gibbs tilted his head a bit. “Not a bad idea, Duck… but let’s hold off a bit. Vance is throwing his weight around where DiNozzo’s concerned, and I want his attention elsewhere before we have another team gathering.”

Ducky’s eyes widened. “Oh, my. He hasn’t discovered your new relationship, has he?”

“Nah, he’s decided Tony should be running his own team. In Seattle.”

Ducky’s expression turned serious. “Is Anthony considering the move?”

“He hasn’t said anything to Vance yet, but he told me he’s turning it down.”

“For the right reasons?” Ducky asked quietly.

“Yeah, Duck… for the right reasons. And before you ask, yes, I would support him if he decided to take the opportunity. But he says he’s staying for more than just me, and I believe him.”

Ducky nodded. “It would have been difficult to see him go. Well, I am glad for your sake especially, Jethro. Now that you’ve found love again, I hope you will hold on to it.”

Gibbs reached out and squeezed Ducky’s shoulder. “Thanks, Duck. I intend to.”

Gibbs left Autopsy and headed over to Abby’s lab, with a detour to grab a Caff-Pow along the way.


	21. Questioning

**Talking With Abby**

Tony walked into Forensics to see Abby sitting at her desk in the back room. He sauntered in, prepared to greet her in his usual fashion, but hesitated when he got a closer look. Her hair was up in two little buns on the top of her head, and the rest of her clothing was per usual, but her face was devoid of makeup. She was staring at the computer screen, but didn’t seem to be seeing it. He toned down the energy as he made his way into the room.

“Hey, Abs.”

“Tony.” She looked up at him and gave him a small smile. She looked tired, but at least she wasn’t crying. He had a hard time with crying women.

“Abby?” He moved behind her chair and leaned in to give her a hug. “What’s wrong?”

She gripped his arms tightly then relaxed back into him, loosening the hold on his arms but still hanging on. “Did you ever treat someone in a way that left you kinda hating yourself?”

Tony was silent for a moment, remembering. “Yeah.”

Abby turned a bit in her seat to look up at him. “Oh. Jeanne, right?” He nodded. “I’m sorry, Tony. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m just –“ She let go of him with her right hand and aimlessly waved the hand in the air.

“Talk to me, Abs. S’what I’m here for.”

“Did Timmy send you?”

“Both Tim and Ziva said I should come talk to you, that you were upset, but didn’t tell me why.”

Abby sighed and stared at her computer monitor for a moment. It was on screensaver, showing random patterns of line and other geometric figures. Tony squeezed her a little. “You wanna talk? Or you wanna just get hypnotized? I should warn you, Gibbs will be here any minute.”

Abby sighed. “He always makes me feel better.”

Tony let go of her, shifting away until he could perch on the corner of the desk. He looked down at her, mock pouting. “What’s he got that I don’t got?”

She gave him a small smile. “He’s just a really good listener. And he gives the best advice. He’s also got the whole papa bear thing going on, you know?”

Tony shook his head. “I’d rather not know, or else this new relationship is gonna seem real hinky.”

Abby gave him a small laugh. “He just makes me feel safe, and wanted, and that it’s okay to screw up every once in a while.” Tony raised an eyebrow and gave her a skeptical look. She laughed again. “Well, not so much with that last one if it has to do with a case.”

Tony considered that. “Actually, he’s sometimes even okay with screw ups on a case as long as we fix our mistakes and don’t make them again.”

Abby sighed. “As long as no one gets hurt.”

“Breaking legs again, Abs?” Gibbs walked into the room and dangled a Caff-Pow in Abby’s face. He rested a hand on Tony’s shoulder as he handed it to her. She smiled at him and took the offering.

“I leave breaking people to you and Tony, Gibbs.” She sipped some Caff-Pow up through the straw, then set the drink down next to her computer. “Oh, I have something for you guys!” She reached under her desk and brought out a cardboard box that was taped shut. She held it out to Gibbs. “Open it!”

Gibbs quirked an eyebrow at her, then took the box and set it on the desk as Tony got up to stand next to him. Taking out his knife, Gibbs slit the tape down the middle, but hesitated before opening the box and looked at Abby. “It’s not more books, is it?”

Abby giggled, sounding more like herself. “No, it’s better than books, Gibbs! Look!”

The two men glanced at each other, and then Gibbs opened the box, pulling out two framed pictures wrapped in tissue paper. He handed one to Tony, suppressing a smile as he remembered what they were. They unwrapped the pictures; eight-by-ten copies of the ones Abby had taken Monday night at Gibbs’ house, with matching frames.

“Nice framing job,” Gibbs commented, annoyed when he realized there was a tiny catch in his voice. He was holding the picture of the two of them smiling at each other, right after they’d been kissing passionately in his kitchen. Tony had the picture of that kiss, and his face was turning red. Gibbs rewrapped the picture, putting it back in the box, and leaned in to give Abby a kiss on the top of her head. Tony followed suit, catching Abby’s hand and squeezing it.

Abby taped the box shut, and held it out to Tony. “You should lock that up in your car.”

Tony nodded. “I will… but first, you need to spill.”

Abby shifted uncomfortably, setting the box down on the desk. “It’s silly.”

Gibbs tilted his head and looked at her for a moment, then went to grab and chair, rolling it over in front of Abby’s desk and sitting down. “It’s not silly.”

“How can you say that, Gibbs? You don’t even know what it is!”

“I’ll know as soon as you tell me.”

Abby sighed and stared at her computer monitor again.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Tony reached in front of her and turned the monitor off. “You asked me if I’d ever hated myself for how I treated someone,” he prompted her.

Gibbs glanced up at Tony, then back at Abby. She met his eyes. He raised an eyebrow. She looked away, squirmed in her seat a little, pursing her lips, then glanced at him again. He raised both eyebrows. She sighed.

“All right! I’ll tell you. It’s just… I don’t like myself much right now, and I don’t want you guys to not like me too.”

Gibbs shot her a ‘you must be joking’ look, and Tony snorted. She sighed again.

“Remember how Timmy was so upset with you guys getting together?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Nope. Completely forgot it.”

Gibbs smirked when Abby smacked him on the leg. “Tony!”

“Ow!” Tony rubbed his leg. “Stitches, Abs!”

“Oh my God! I am SO sorry!” She jumped up out of her chair and hugged him. He hugged back, until Gibbs spoke.

“Stitches are on the other leg, Abs.”

“Hey!” She pulled away from Tony, who gave her a sheepish grain, which faded quickly when she punched him hard on the arm.

“Abby.”

She responded to the quiet reminder in Gibbs’ voice and sat back down after glaring at Tony, who was rubbing his arm and grimacing.

“I’m gonna have a bruise now,” he complained.

“Tony.”

Tony glanced at Gibbs and sighed. “Shutting up, Boss.”

Gibbs shot him a small smile, then turned his attention to Abby. “Go on.”

She was looking between the two of them. “You guys are so good together!”

Gibbs sighed. “Thanks, Abs. Now tell us what’s going on before I hit mandatory retirement age.”

Abby stared at her blank monitor, avoiding looking at either man. “Well… Timmy was so upset about the two of you mostly because of rule 12, and that was because he broke it off with me because of rule 12, but I knew that rule 12 didn’t really apply to us but didn’t tell him when he explained why he was breaking things off because he was more serious about the relationship than I was, right?”

After a brief pause to sort that through, both men nodded.

Abby took a deep breath. “I told him Monday night that we’d talk soon, but you guys left for New York, so we didn’t get a chance to, so last night we talked about it. He’s not really mad at me, but I’m mad at me for not telling him the truth. I hurt him, and he’s my friend, so I don’t much like myself right now.”

“Do you wish you guys hadn’t broken up?” Tony asked.

“No, not at the time, anyway, ‘cause I wasn’t ready to commit to anyone then. But now I look at you guys, and you have this awesome thing going, this true love forever thing, and I just wonder if I’m ever going to have that.”

Gibbs and Tony looked at each other. Tony spoke first, responding to Abby but looking at Gibbs. “Um, Abs… it’s only been a little over a week for us. There’s no guarantees of anything for the future. You can’t hold us up as the ultimate relationship – it’s too soon.”

“But you guys are so made for each other! You have to stay together!”

“Abby,” Gibbs broke in gently. “Tony’s not saying we won’t. All he’s saying is that you’re assuming things, and what have I told you about making assumptions?”

Abby pouted.

Tony tried again, from a different angle. “Do you want McGee back, Abby?”

She looked a little startled at that. “I hadn’t even thought about it that way. Just that I was upset with how things turned out and how it obviously was still bothering him. And then I was thinking about you guys and wishing I could have what you do… but I don’t know if Tim’s the right person.”

Tony reached out and tilted her face up to look at him. “You told me last week that you hadn’t met your soul mate yet. Think you were wrong?”

Abby shrugged.

Gibbs broke in. “Be sure, Abs. Don’t mess with McGee’s feelings. And don’t try to make yourself feel something you don’t. I speak from experience; that never works.”

Abby’s eyes got a little of their usual sparkle back. “So you think you two… it’s for real?”

The two men looked at each other again. Tony nodded while Gibbs said, “Yeah.”

She grinned. “I am really happy for you guys!” She squared her shoulders. “I have work to do. Scram.”

They both turned and stared at her.

“I’m serious. I feel better. Go do agent things; I’m going to do scientist things.”

“Okay, Abs.” Gibbs got to his feet, leaning in to her a bit. “You’ll have it if you want it. Just make sure it’s right.” He kissed her cheek, then headed for the hallway. Tony grinned at her and gave her a quick one-armed hug. He pointed to the box with the pictures.

“Hang on to these for me until later?”

She smiled and nodded, and he ran to catch up to Gibbs.

 **Elevator Interlude**

The elevator doors opened to reveal an empty compartment just as Tony got there. They got on, and Gibbs hit the button for the bullpen. As soon as the doors closed and the elevator started moving, Tony reached out and hit the emergency stop. The elevator shuddered to a halt, light dimming. Gibbs turned to look at him questioningly.

“You,” Tony said, poking Gibbs in the chest lightly, “are in violation of the amended rule 12.”

Gibbs just stared at him.

Tony wasn’t backing down. “One,” he raised his hand, one finger up in the air, “winking at me upstairs before you went to see Vance. Which I want to hear about, by the way. Two,” – another finger – “commenting on my legs in Autopsy. Three,” – a third finger – “giving me the once over in Autopsy. Four,” – a fourth finger – “your hand on my shoulder in Abby’s lab.” He reached out and poked Gibbs again. “Keep it up and Vance won’t hesitate to force that transfer on me.”

Gibbs looked down at Tony’s hand, then tilted his head up and stared at the ceiling while huffing out a breath. “You’re right. I’ll work on it.” He looked over at Tony. “How come you’re not messing up too?”

Tony shrugged and grinned at him. “I’ve done a lot more undercover work than you in the past several years. You’re out of practice. But if you want me to even things up a little…” He moved quickly into Gibbs’ space and brushed a kiss over his lips. “Make you feel better?”

Gibbs shook his head, smiling. “Yes and no.” There was a pause while they just looked at each other, and then Gibbs stepped back. “C’mon DiNozzo, we’ve got work to do.” He reached out to start up the elevator when Tony grabbed his hand. He played with Gibbs’ fingers for a moment, then said, “My place tonight? So you can tell me if Vance made it out alive? I’ll order in Chinese.”

Gibbs nodded. “You’re on.” There was a pause. “Give me my hand back, Tony.” There was a slight undercurrent of laughter in his voice. Tony grinned and let go. Gibbs got the elevator moving again.

“We’re never gonna keep this quiet, are we?” Tony asked.

Gibbs just stared at the elevator doors and smiled.

 **Interrogating Pierce**

Gibbs and Tony reached the bullpen to see that Ziva and McGee had already called up the file on Pierce and it was projected onto the plasma screen. As soon as they reached the screen, McGee gave a summary of the important facts, handing Gibbs a thick file folder. After McGee was done with his presentation, Gibbs moved to his desk, sat down, and took out his glasses. Before putting them on he looked over at Tony. “DiNozzo!”

“Yeah, Boss!”

“Move Pierce from holding to Interrogation 1… let him sit there for a bit. The three of you get into Observation; I’ll be down in a few.”

There was a disjointed chorus of acknowledgment, and the three agents headed out. Gibbs took maybe ten minutes to go through the folder; he’d interrogated Pierce once before in Norfolk and gotten nowhere, but his gut had told him then that the man was guilty, so he’d kept on top of the case and reviewed the file every so often. Pierce had been an arrogant son of a bitch in Norfolk, but Gibbs hadn’t much to go on then… now there was a lot more evidence. _Should be easy to make him crack now._

Pocketing his glasses, Gibbs stood, tucked the folder under his arm, and headed to Observation. He joined his team, looking through the one-way glass at the stocky man with thinning blond hair who sat quietly, nervously tapping his fingers on the table top.

“He do or say anything?” Gibbs asked.

Tony shook his head. “Nope. Didn’t even ask for a lawyer. I’m thinking he wants to hear what we’ve got before he says anything.”

Gibbs nodded, then turned and left the room. Seconds later he was sitting in front of Lieutenant Michael Pierce, flipping through the file and ignoring the man. Minutes ticked by, and finally Pierce spoke.

“You can’t just keep me here forever. What are you charging me with?”

Gibbs gave Pierce a mocking look. “You were picked up in Marseille as you were about to deliver several kilos of cocaine. So you know we already have you for that.”

He fished an eight-by-ten glossy picture of Ensign Louis Baxter’s dead body out of the file and put it down on the table facing Pierce. Pierce looked at the picture and remained expressionless, except for a tiny twitch in one corner of his mouth. “You asked me about this guy once before. What was his name… Baker? I told you I didn’t really know him, just bought him a drink, I’d seen him around the base.”

Gibbs stared at Pierce long enough for the man to start fidgeting. “That,” he gestured to the picture, “is Ensign Louis Baxter.”

Silence and more staring. Pierce shifted around some more, until he couldn’t stand the silence. “Well? What’s it got to do with me?”

Gibbs started to list the evidence, piece by piece, and with each one he laid another piece of paper in front of Pierce.

“Witness statements placing you at the bar with Baxter. You say you didn’t really know him, but the bartender says you talked for a while. Carpet fibers on the body match those in your car. DNA profile of skin fragments taken from under Baxter’s fingernails. One-way ticket to France. And of course you were caught trying to deliver that cocaine in Marseille.”

Pierce turned a bit pale. Gibbs leaned in, speaking softly. “Here’s what I think. You’ve been a middle man for cocaine shipments, using your post to move the drugs overseas on military transports. Baxter caught on to you, followed you to that bar, and tried to extort money in exchange for silence. You made some agreement you didn’t intend to honor. He left; you followed later because he’d given you contact information and you knew where to find him. You grabbed him, forced him into the trunk of your car, drove to that alley, and killed him to shut him up.”

Pierce swallowed heavily.

“We’ve got you for the drugs. One-way ticket indicates you were running. Easy enough to link you to the murder.”

Pierce crumbled. “I want a lawyer. And… and I want a deal. I’ll give you what I know about the drug ring and you let me off easy for Baxter.”

Gibbs methodically picked up all the paperwork and put it neatly back in the file. He stood, looking at Pierce with contempt. “That will be up to JAG.” He left the room.

He walked back into Observation. Tony grinned at him. “Nice job, Boss!”

Gibbs shrugged. “He knew we already had him for the drugs. Not too hard to convince him we had him for the rest.”

“Don’t we?” McGee asked.

“DNA’s inconclusive. But he doesn’t know that. Rest could be seen as circumstantial, might not be enough to convict for the murder; this way he’ll go down for Baxter too. DiNozzo, take him back to holding and call over at JAG, get him a lawyer. Meet you back upstairs… we’ll get some lunch and prep for the next one.”

Gibbs headed out the door, McGee right behind him. Tony moved to follow, but was stopped by Ziva as soon as they were in the hallway. He looked over at her; she had a small smile on her face.

“What’s up? You were quiet in there.”

Ziva’s smile got a little bigger. “I was observing.”

“Yeah, and?”

“I was observing you, Tony.”

He gave her a confused look and started walking. She moved to stay even with him.

“I think, if I were to ask you what was said in there, you would have trouble telling me.”

“Ziva…”

“Tony. You were not watching Pierce. You were watching Gibbs. You never took your eyes off him.”

Tony sighed and walked a little faster, chased down the hall by Ziva’s giggles.

 **The Rental Car Killer**

After getting Pierce situated and contacting JAG, Tony headed out for Chinese food, getting everyone’s usual. They ate in the bullpen, gathered around Gibbs’ desk. Gibbs gave them an update on Vargas; the FBI had cut a deal with him to get information on all the organization’s contacts, and had a several leads on where Ratero might be holed up. The FBI and ATF were handling the local leads, and the CIA was handling the international ones. Their own part was truly over, except for possibly testifying in court sometime in the future.

Ducky came upstairs just as they were done eating and were clearing away the trash. He checked with both Ziva and McGee on how they were feeling, and told McGee that if he continued to eat well and his headache was gone by the end of the day, he’d be back on active duty by Monday. Then he turned to Gibbs, looking at him expectantly.

Gibbs nodded and turned to the team. “I asked Ducky to join us for this one… we don’t have a lot to go on, and his forensic psychology degree may be helpful.”

Ducky smiled. “It does get me out of Autopsy every now and then.”

Ziva smiled back. “We are always happy to see you away from Autopsy or a crime scene, Ducky.”

“Very kind of you, my dear.”

Gibbs nodded to McGee, who went to his computer and pulled a series of pictures up onto the plasma. Grabbing the remote, he walked over standing next to the screen while the others formed a semicircle facing it.

Tony chimed in just as McGee began to speak. “Is this a Thom E. Gemcity production, McSpeaker?”

McGee shot Tony an irritated look that lost some of its punch given the small smile he couldn’t quite suppress. He hit a button on the remote, and the first picture enlarged to fill much of the screen. It was the front and side views of a mug shot, taken in New Orleans. The man’s face was rather non-descript; close-cropped medium brown hair, dark brown eyes, his face neither skinny nor fat, his nose an average size. There were essentially no distinguishing features.

Tony frowned. “I feel like I’ve seen him before.”

Ziva snorted. “Yes, he looks a hundred other people you see out on the street every day.”

“No,” Tony responded, shaking his head. “From somewhere specific… but I can’t place it.”

McGee started his summary. “His real name is Paul Johnson. Age 37. Originally from a small town in southern New Jersey. Graduated high school, where he excelled in art, didn’t go to college. He’s worked a series of temp jobs, handy man stuff, whatever comes his way. Travels a lot. Prints are on file due to a few drunk and disorderly arrests, convictions resulting in a month or two in jail here and there.” The pictures switched to the ones McGee had shown everyone except Ducky before, the ones of various drivers licenses, all of Paul Johnson but altered with partial masks, wigs, and facial hair… but all clearly of the same man when McGee manipulated the pictures to remove the masks. “He used his artistic abilities to give himself a different appearance before each murder.”

The pictures changed again, now to the victims. As McGee ran through the list, he first showed each person’s file photo, then the crime scene picture. Each picture from the crime scene showed the victim in the driver’s seat of the car.

“Petty Officer Richard Dunham, strangled… Lance Corporal Devon McNeil, shot… Gunnery Sergeant Thomas Evans, drowned…” – here everyone shot quick looks at Gibbs and Tony, but neither man showed anything other than professional focus – “Lieutenant Michael Franken, burned… Petty Officer Graham Bates, beaten… and lastly Petty Officer Lisa Holloway, who he was in the process of kidnapping when he was apprehended. She’s fine, never saw him before he grabbed her, has no idea why he targeted her.”

Ducky frowned. “Timothy, can you page through the file pictures again for me, slowly, please?”

McGee did so. Ducky shook his head. “This makes no sense, Jethro. There is no pattern. None of these people have a single physical feature all in common. The only thing they share is being either in the Navy or the Marines, but even so, a serial killer usually fixates on some physical characteristic. Not to mention a method of killing. The car is the only commonality, but even so, it’s just a stage, not the murder weapon. And then to start with women after targeting men… there’s simply nothing here that makes sense.”

Ziva spoke up. “Could the common piece be that they are all different, Ducky? The method of killing, the victims themselves?”

Ducky sighed. “I suppose so.” He didn’t sound convinced.

Gibbs cut in. “We find the motive, we’ll make it make sense.”

Ziva spoke up again. “When Johnson was apprehended, he refused to answer any questions. He said,” – she looked down at her notes – “When you send someone worthy of explanation, I’ll talk.”

Gibbs’ eyes narrowed. “We’ll just make ourselves worthy, won’t we.” He looked at Tony. “Figure out where you’ve seen him before yet?”

Tony shook his head, frustrated. “No. I know I have, but I can’t place him.”

McGee handed him a piece of paper. “Here’s a printout of the dates and locations of all the murders… any chance you were in the area?”

Tony scanned the list. “No way.” He shrugged, handed the list back to McGee, and stared at the screen again. “Guy gives me the creeps.”

Gibbs glanced at Tony, concerned, but then looked over at McGee. “Got the file?”

McGee handed it to him. Gibbs paged through it for a moment, then looked up at the team. “Head on down to Observation. Dr. Mallard, would you care to join us?”

“I am certainly intrigued, Jethro.”

Gibbs nodded. “DiNozzo,” he called out, causing his senior field agent to reverse direction and come back over to the screen. “Want to start off? See if talking to him triggers anything?” Tony nodded. Gibbs gave him a small smile. “I’ll call to have him brought into Interrogation. Meet you in Observation.”

When Gibbs joined everyone in Observation, Johnson was sitting at the table, facing the one-way mirror, hands clasped and resting on the table top, thumbs up. He wasn’t moving, just staring straight ahead. He looked bored. Gibbs glanced at Tony. “Anything?”

Tony shook his head. “Sorry, Boss.”

“You ready?”

Tony nodded, and headed out the door. Ziva turned to Gibbs. “Tony is going to interrogate?”

“Just to start him off. See if interacting with him reminds him where he’s seen him before.”

They all turned to watch Johnson as the door opened and Tony walked through, full of swagger, a big grin on his face. Gibbs was hard pressed not to smile at the sight… it was Tony at his most irritating. McGee spoke up. “He’s planning to annoy him into talking, isn’t he?” Ducky chuckled, glancing at Gibbs, who grinned at him.

Tony pulled out the chair opposite Johnson and sat down, giving him a disarming smile. Johnson’s eyes shifted and tracked him; the rest of his body stayed motionless. Tony was eerily reminded of Kyle Boone, the serial killer who’d played mind games with Gibbs days before his execution. He sat for a moment, relaxing into his chair, grinning at the man.

Johnson looked him over, then spoke. “You’re not military.”

“Nope,” Tony said cheerfully.

Johnson shrugged. “You don’t interest me.” He turned his gaze toward the mirror again.

“You interest me.” Tony shifted forward a little, and the motion brought Johnson’s eyes back to him. “See, I get the feeling I’ve seen you before, but I can’t place where. So I’m wondering if you’ve seen me. I’m kinda hard to forget.”

Johnson looked at him again. “I haven’t seen you before.”

Tony shifted again and was about to speak, but stopped as Johnson continued to talk. “I’ve already done one like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“The second one. He was full of bluster, like you. I shot him.”

In Observation, Ziva spoke up, surprised. “He finds Tony worthy?”

Ducky hushed her.

Tony was speaking. “Lance Corporal Devon McNeil. He’s the one you shot.”

Johnson shrugged. “His name is not important.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “It was to him, and to his family.”

Johnson was silent.

Tony continued. “Why him? What made him special?”

Johnson’s eyes shifted to Tony again. “I did one like you already. I don’t need to talk to you anymore.”

Tony started guessing, throwing out hypotheses about McNeil and why Johnson had targeted him. The guesses became more and more outrageous, but Johnson ignored him, looking at the mirror, still motionless.

In Observation, Ducky shook his head. “Tony was worthy in the sense that he reminded Johnson of his victim, and that prompted Johnson to speak to him. But he is not worthy of explanation.”

“Someone military, Duck?” Gibbs asked, thinking of Johnson’s first comment.

Ducky nodded. “Very likely.”

“Think I’ll do?” Gibbs shot his friend a smile.

Ducky looked at Gibbs’ pseudo-military haircut. “I should think so. Just channel your inner Gunny.”

Gibbs grinned at him, and walked out of the room.

He entered Interrogation just as Tony was breaking into song. It was almost working; Johnson’s fingers were starting to twitch, just a little. With a tilt of his head, Gibbs indicated for Tony to leave. Tony nodded and got up. “See ya round, Paulie.”

He headed back into Observation, closing the door behind him. “At least I got a confession for McNeil,” he said. He sounded disgruntled. Walking over to the window, he watched as Gibbs moved in front of Johnson, standing a little to one side, near the corner of the table. Johnson turned slightly to look at him.

“Oh, my,” Ducky said.

Johnson’s face came alive in a way it hadn’t been, either in the pictures or when Tony was annoying him. His eyes traveled slowly over Gibbs’ face; he tilted his head and his hands unclasped. Gibbs moved to sit opposite him, pulling the chair a bit to one side so that the team had a clear view. Johnson’s right thumb started to rub against his left hand, a very slow, repetitive motion.

“Ducky?” Tony asked.

“I do believe he finds Jethro worthy.” Ducky commented. “However, I am not entirely sure that’s a good thing.”

Gibbs didn’t have to say a word before Johnson started talking. “I could do something with you. Something new.”

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. “Could you?”

“Oh, yes.” There was a pause. “You _are_ military?”

Gibbs nodded. “Marine Gunnery Sargeant.”

Johnson’s face lit up, and he started to stand; Gibbs gave him a quiet command. “Sit. Now.”

Johnson sat, but his face broke out into a smile. There was nothing pleasant in the smile; it reminded Tony of some of the horror movies he watched with Abby sometimes during their movie nights.

“You have power,” Johnson said. “Confidence. None of the others had it. They weren’t quite right, but they were close. You will be my masterpiece. It’s not too late.”

Everyone in Observation shifted uncomfortably, except Tony, who stood frozen, finally remembering where he’d seen Paul Johnson before.

Gibbs acted like he hadn’t noticed what Johnson said. He pulled out two pictures: Petty Officer Richard Dunham’s personnel file photo, and the one of him sitting in the front seat of a car, strangled. Johnson looked down and nodded. “Yes, that was my first. He had authority, but not like you.”

Gibbs followed up with the next two, then the next, eventually getting a confession for each one. He got to Lisa Holloway’s picture. “You were apprehended trying to force her into the trunk of a car. Why were you switching from men to women?”

Johnson shook his head. “I wasn’t. She doesn’t fit my theme.”

“Then why kidnap her?”

“She was the bait for my next piece. I hadn’t been able to get close enough to her boyfriend, so I decided to take her as bait. Exchange her freedom for him.”

Gibbs leaned forward a bit. Johnson licked his lips in what was clearly a sexual gesture. Tony’s hands clenched into fists; Ducky, standing next to him, noticed and put a calming hand on Tony’s arm. “Jethro can take care of himself, my boy.” Tony nodded, but didn’t relax.

Gibbs was asking a question. “You said your next piece. Piece, as in artwork?”

Johnson nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly. You understand. I knew you would. I’ll have something special for you, very special. You’ll appreciate it.”

“No, I doubt I would. Why don’t you explain it to me?”

Johnson gave him an almost flirtatious look. “Now you’re just playing with me. The pieces,” – he gestured at the crime scene photos – “they are my art. Each one is unique, but they all have a common theme.”

Gibbs sat back. “I see.” He took on a conversational tone. “The cars, they represent…”

“The evils of modern technology. Cars kill; they lead to chaos and destruction.”

Gibbs nodded. “Of course. And you chose Navy and Marine personnel because…”

“The military is another form of destruction. It reaches out and destroys. It needs to be stopped. My art gets the message out.” Johnson looked at Gibbs hungrily, and reached out to touch him. Gibbs grabbed his wrist, slamming it down on table. Johnson cried out, but if anything he seemed even more excited. “Perfect,” he said. “You’re perfect. Something slow. The others were too fast, but for you it will be slow, meaningful… time will be an element in your piece.”

Tony flung open the door of the Observation room and was out in the hall before anyone could stop him. Gibbs let go of Johnson’s wrist and stood, looking at him with disgust. Tony opened the door to Interrogation and stared at Johnson, who stared back. Johnson’s eyes were cold, assessing, soulless… just like the eyes in Tony’s dream. They _were_ the eyes in Tony’s dream.

Johnson smiled at him. “You think he’s yours. He’s mine. I’ll have him, and I’ll create my master work around him. You’ll be too late.”

Gibbs pulled out his cell and put in a quick call, asking for two agents to take Johnson back down to holding. They showed up within a few minutes, but the whole time they were waiting Johnson was staring at Gibbs, and Gibbs had a hand on Tony’s arm, restraining him from punching the hungry look off Johnson’s face. Johnson was cuffed and led away, turning his head to look back at them. Tony turned to Gibbs, shaking slightly. “Gibbs…” He didn’t know what else to say.

“Hey.” Gibbs squeezed his arm gently, trying to reassure him. “Johnson’s in custody. We’ve got full confessions for five murders and one kidnapping… he’ll never get out.”

Tony just stared at him, a hint of panic in his eyes.

Gibbs gave his arm a small shake. “Tony. We’ll take care of the paperwork, then call it a day. We’ll go to your place, have that Chinese food, and you’ll tell me why this nutcase has you so freaked out. Okay?”

Tony took a deep breath and nodded. The others moved into the room, all looking at Tony with concern. “You three,” Gibbs said, “get upstairs, get those reports written up on both the Pierce and Johnson interrogations. Try to dig up more on Johnson’s background; I want to know more about why he limited his targets to the Navy and Marines. You get done, you get out of here. We’re on call this weekend.” They nodded and left, Ziva pulling a bit on Tony to get him moving.

Once they were gone, Gibbs turned to Ducky. “What do you think, Duck? Johnson insane?”

Ducky crossed his arms and gazed at the floor for a moment, then looked at Gibbs. “My best guess is yes, but I’m no expert, Jethro. There are degrees of insanity. He clearly planned each one of his murders well in advance, so he is certainly responsible for his actions. How the courts deal with him will depend on whether he truly understands what he has done.”

Gibbs nodded. “I’ll order a psych eval. Either way, he ends up in prison or institutionalized, probably for life.”

Ducky nodded. “I’ll write up my observations for you to include in your report.” He hesitated a moment. “Jethro… be careful around him. He has fixated on you as his next victim, very strongly. I hate to think of what he would do should he get his hands on you.”

Gibbs looked at him, surprised. “He’s under lock and key, Duck. And he’s obviously dangerous… no judge is going to give him bail.”

Ducky nodded. Gibbs started to leave the room, then had a thought and turned back. “What’s up with DiNozzo, Duck?”

Ducky was momentarily lost in thought, and started a bit at the question. “Oh. Anthony… well, Jethro, you must know that you can’t expect him to simply stand by when you are threatened. And some of Mr. Johnson’s interest in you was sexual in nature; Anthony picked up on that. I believe that was the proverbial last straw, and he was coming into Interrogation to protect you.”

Gibbs frowned. “Any of his victims show signs of rape?”

Ducky shook his head. “Nothing in the autopsy reports. But if Mr. Johnson is to be taken at face value, I wouldn’t put it past him to attempt it in your case.”

Gibbs shot him a disbelieving look. “You’re not serious.”

“Very much so, Jethro. His emotional connection to what he calls his art is clearly very strong, and for the subject of art to arouse sexual interest is not unheard of. You obviously intrigue him very much. He has chosen you as his masterpiece, as he put it, and he will certainly try to fulfill his artistic goals if at all possible. And I can’t even begin to fathom what those might be.”

 **Fear and Reassurance**

Tony walked out of his bathroom, a towel around his waist, using another to dry his hair. The encounter with Johnson had made him feel as if he had bugs crawling on his skin, and a shower had seemed like a really good idea. He’d had to wait until they had more information for Gibbs, who’d made it clear no one was leaving until they had at least a possible answer for why the psycho wasn’t targeting all branches of the military. Tony had found out that Johnson had two cousins close to his age; one was career Navy and one had spent close to ten years in the Marines. Ziva had discovered that Johnson’s parents had died in a car crash, and Johnson had been sent to live with his cousins’ family. McGee had been the one to track down school records, which showed multiple investigations into possible abuse in that home; the school psychologist had concluded that the aunt and uncle had been well-meaning but oblivious to what their sons were doing to torment the boy. She had recommended family counseling. There was no record to show whether counseling had taken place or if the abuse had ever stopped.

So they had a working theory for the general whys of the case, although they didn’t have a good understanding of what caused Johnson to target specific people, and no clue about the trigger that set him on the killing spree in the first place. The psych evaluation might tell them something. If not, Gibbs intended to interrogate further, and that worried Tony. Johnson was already fixated on Gibbs, and Tony didn’t want that sicko anywhere near his lover. He wasn’t sure how to ask Gibbs to stay away, something that would have been almost unthinkable before they’d become involved, and was still fraught with peril, albeit of a different kind. Tony didn’t want personal feelings affecting the job, although he knew they’d both been guilty of that today, although in very different ways. Gibbs had been affectionate, and Tony had been protective. _I guess Abby would say that’s not much different from before._ Tony knew that Gibbs had always had a rarely displayed affection for his team, and he also knew that he’d always been protective of his boss. _We just have more reasons now, that’s all._

Tony dressed in black sweat pants and a dark green t-shirt, leaving his feet bare. He’d called for the Chinese food just before getting in the shower; it would be there soon. He figured Gibbs would reheat whatever didn’t stay hot enough. He looked around the apartment, trying to find something to do, to distract himself from what he was trying very hard not to think about. _That damn dream. How is it possible that I saw Johnson in that dream? Maybe I was worried about this interrogation and my subconscious used the pictures I saw when McGee and Ziva first cracked the case. Hey, that could work!_ Tony felt a lot happier, until he remembered that it was clear in the dream that Johnson had gotten to Gibbs, and that Tony was going to be too late. That seemed a lot more like a premonition than a dream. He almost wished he had suggested they meet up at Gibbs’ house so he could go to the basement and talk to Shannon. He knew Gibbs did that; he’d witnessed it last weekend. _I wonder how that would go over… ‘Hey, Jeth, can we go over to your place so we can talk to your dead wife and find out how to protect you from a psychopathic killer?’ Piece of cake._

There was a knock at the door. Tony grabbed the money he’d put on the kitchen counter and looked through the security peephole. Dinner. He opened the door, got the food, handed the delivery guy the money, including a sizable tip, and pushed the door shut with his foot. He took the bags into the kitchen and started unloading, then nearly dropped pork fried rice all over the floor when a pair of arms encircled his waist. The startled yelp that escaped from his mouth did absolutely nothing for his ego.

The arms let go, and Tony whirled around, ready to do battle, only to find a surprised Jethro backing off. He sagged back against the counter and tried not to look even worse than he already had. He glanced at Jethro, who had a rather amused expression on his face that he tried hard to change to concern when he saw Tony looking at him.

“How’d you get in?”

“Delivery guy was leaving just as I got on your floor. You shut the door but didn’t lock it, so I walked in. Didn’t mean to startle you, thought you heard me.” Jethro took off his jacket and went back to the door, throwing the deadbolt and grabbing the pack he’d left by the door. He walked to the bedroom, calling out, “That’ll teach you to lock your door, Tony!”

Tony returned to unpacking the food. “Another example of do as I say, not as I do?”

There was silence for a moment; Tony figured Jethro was changing out of work clothes. Sure enough, a few minutes later Jethro strolled into the kitchen, wearing worn jeans and a USMC t-shirt. Like Tony, he was barefoot. He came right up to Tony’s side, leaning his chin on Tony’s shoulder while the food was portioned out onto plates. “I lock up when you’re at the house.” Tony shook his head, grinning. Jethro leaned in and nipped Tony’s neck. “I’m hungry.” Tony laughed.

They sat on stools at the kitchen counter, mostly silent while they ate and drank the imported beer Jethro had brought. A few comments flew back and forth, mostly about Ziva’s and McGee’s projected recovery time, and if they were likely to get a case this weekend. They were second in line to be called in, unless the first call merited the response of the MCRT.

It didn’t take them long to finish eating, and neither one wanted seconds as Tony had put large helpings on both plates. He picked up one of the two fortune cookies, cracked it open, and fished out the fortune. He read it out loud: “You will have an interesting life.” Jethro raised an eyebrow at him. Tony shrugged. “Right so far.” He tossed the second cookie to Jethro, who caught it, cracked it, squinted at the strip of paper, then sighed and handed it off to Tony, who took one look at it and almost fell out of his chair laughing. He laughed so hard his stomach hurt and he couldn’t breathe. Jethro finally had to grab him by the shoulders and hang on to him, warning him that if he didn’t stop he’d probably be sick and lose his dinner. Tony finally got himself under control, wiping his eyes and giggling a little every few seconds. He looked over at Jethro, whose expression clearly showed both curiosity and impatience. Jethro started to say something, but Tony held up his hand. “No, I got it.” He took a deep breath – and broke into giggles again. Jethro reached out and smacked him upside the head. “Okay, okay. Really. I’m good.” Tony cleared his throat, closed his eyes, took another deep breath, opened his eyes, and read, “You are the lone flower of meditation in the wilderness,” followed by another series of giggles.

Silence.

“What?!”

Tony grinned. “This is awesome. I’m texting Abby.” He got up and reached for his phone, while Jethro grabbed the fortune and tried to read it, holding it at different lengths from his eyes and squinting. He glared at Tony when Tony used his cell to snap a picture of him. Tony fired off the text, then grabbed the fortune from Jethro before anything unfortunate could happen to it. “I’m framing this. And putting it up behind your desk at work.” His phone beeped; he checked it quickly, grinning.

“What did she say?”

“ROTFL.”

Jethro stared at him. “Huh?”

Tony sighed. “I’m getting you a chatspeak dictionary for your birthday.”

Jethro rolled his eyes, then grabbed his beer and headed into the living room. Tony hid the fortune, not trusting Jethro to not get rid of it. He picked up his own beer after doing a quick clean up and joined Jethro on the couch.

The older man was sitting in one corner, feet propped up on the coffee table. Tony sat next to him, leaving a little space between them. As soon as he set his beer down next to Jethro’s, he felt hands on his shoulders and was maneuvered into lying down with his head on Jethro’s lap and the rest of him stretched out on the couch. “Nice, Jeth.”

Jethro smiled at him and ran his fingers through Tony’s hair. “Want the condensed version of my… discussion with Vance?”

Tony nodded. “I take it no blood was spilled since you didn’t end up under arrest.”

Jethro tilted his head. “It was close.” He sank back into the cushions a bit, resting one hand on Tony’s chest while the other continued to comb through his hair. He gave Tony a quick summary, ending with, “… so I think we should stick to the plan, and you should take the full two weeks before telling him your decision.”

Tony nodded. “I don’t like this business of you owing him anything.”

“Me neither. But without that concession, he’d have forced the transfer.” Jethro’s hand stilled, and he looked down at Tony. “Tony… you can still change your mind. It would be a good career move for you. I’d understand.”

Tony shook his head. “Not going to change my mind, Jeth. Not just because of this,” – he waved his hand at the two of them – “but because I’m happy where I am. Don’t see a need to change things.”

Jethro reached for Tony’s left hand with his right, interlocking their fingers and bringing both hands to rest on Tony’s chest. “Good.” He leaned forward to grab his beer, sucking in his stomach when Tony pretended to bite him.

“No fair, I can’t drink beer in this position.”

“So sit up.”

“Don’t wanna.”

Jethro grinned, and leaned down to brush a kiss over Tony’s lips. He sat back up before Tony could get his free hand up to the back of Jethro’s head and hold him in place. “So… you remember where you saw Johnson before?”

Tony stilled, his entire body tensing under Jethro’s hands. Jethro quickly leaned down and gave him another kiss. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Tony let go of Jethro’s hand and sat up when Jethro did. “No, it’s okay. I remembered about midway through the interrogation. It’s just… look, can we not talk about it tonight? Tomorrow, I’ll fill you in. Tonight, I just want to not think about it.”

Jethro nodded. “I can do that.”

Tony looked at him, then away, rubbing his neck. Jethro watched him for a moment, then stood, holding out his hand to Tony. “Come on.”

Tony looked up, then grabbed Jethro’s hand and let himself be pulled up. Jethro interlocked their fingers again, and led Tony around the apartment, turning off lights and putting the beers in the sink before leading him into the bedroom.

Once there, he dropped Tony’s hand and went around closing the curtains, turning the lights down but not off, and pulling the sheets down to the foot of the bed. Tony watched, feeling slightly strange that Jethro had taken charge in Tony’s apartment, but not inclined to complain… he needed this. He wanted the reassurance of Jethro in charge tonight. After arranging things to his satisfaction, Jethro walked over to Tony and gently kissed his cheek. “Hang on, I’ll be right back.” He disappeared into the bathroom. Tony started to move over to the bed, then changed his mind and left the room in search of the second bathroom. He returned to find Jethro standing next to the bed, naked. Tony turned to shut the door behind him, even though it wasn’t necessary, just wanting to increase the feeling of security.

When he turned back, he found Jethro standing right in front of him. He started to say something, but Jethro laid a finger over his lips. “Let me take care of you tonight. I know you had a hard time this afternoon… let me make it up to you.” He removed his finger when Tony nodded. Jethro leaned in and brushed a light kiss over his lips, then moved his mouth to Tony’s ear. “You just tell me if there’s anything you want, Tony,” he whispered. “I’ll do my best to give it to you.” Tony closed his eyes, swallowed, and nodded. He kept his eyes closed when he felt Jethro take hold of the bottom of his t-shirt, and raised his arms so it could be easily removed. He felt Jethro’s fingers slide along the waistband of his sweatpants, then along the skin right above it, then in-between skin and cloth, gently moving the pants over Tony’s budding erection and down his legs. Tony stepped out of them, eyes still closed, felt Jethro take his hand, and let himself be led to the bed.

“Sit,” Jethro said softly, and Tony did. He felt the bed dip slightly as Jethro sat next to him, then he felt Jethro’s hands on his skin, one stroking his thigh, the other moving from his abdomen, up his chest, then sliding around to the back of his neck, pulling Tony in a little. Then there was the soft slide of Jethro’s lips over Tony’s, just lips, nothing else, punctuated by the murmur of words Tony couldn’t really hear; he just let the sound and feel wash over him.

Both hands were in Tony’s hair now, stroking and holding him in place while Jethro’s lips and tongue played with Tony’s mouth, caressing, exploring, invading. Tony started to respond, reaching up to touch Jethro, but Jethro pulled back, murmuring again, telling Tony “shhh, let me… just let go, just feel…” and Tony let his hands drop back to his sides, eyes still closed, feeling safe.

Jethro kept one hand in Tony’s hair and kept kissing him, moving away from his mouth to his neck and then back, nipping lightly here and there. His other hand traveled down Tony’s body, fingers skimming lightly over his skin until he reached Tony’s cock, running his fingers lightly over and around that as well, then over Tony’s balls, caressing, until Tony started to moan into the kisses. Jethro gently licked Tony’s lips, then shifted his weight off the bed, sliding down to the floor, kissing Tony’s thighs, stroking his leg with one hand while the other continued to caress Tony’s cock and balls. He moved his mouth closer and closer to Tony’s groin, until finally he placed a kiss on the hard shaft in his hand, then licked up to the head, kissing there as well.

“Oh, god,” Tony whispered, eyes still closed, head falling back a little now, feeling Jethro’s lips and tongue move over him and encircle him, kisses falling on his cock and his balls, a little suction here and there, until Tony started to feel as if he was going to burn up from the inside. “Please,” he whispered, and Jethro moved to sit next to him again.

“What do you want, Tony? Tell me how to make you feel good.”

Tony blinked his eyes open, taking a moment to bring himself back to reality. He looked at Jethro’s face; his lover’s eyes were wide and dark, his lips swollen from kissing, love and desire easy to read. He let his eyes travel over Jethro’s body, over the muscular chest and abs, down to the very hard and straining erection. He reached out to touch, caressing Jethro now, watching as it was Jethro’s turn to gasp and moan and let his head fall back with the pleasure of it. He leaned in, kissing and licking Jethro’s neck, reaching up to run his fingers through Jethro’s hair, grabbing lightly and bringing his head back to his own, lips meeting lips passionately. Tony groaned into the kiss as Jethro responded, letting Tony take the lead. Moving his hand slowly up and down Jethro’s cock, twisting a little, gathering precome onto his fingers and spreading it over Jethro’s cock, he watched through half-closed eyes as Jethro’s hips started to move with his stroking, and Jethro’s breath came faster.

Jethro pulled back from the kisses a little, continuing to thrust slowly into Tony’s hand. He reached up, caressing the side of Tony’s face. “Is this what you want me to do, Tony? You want me to come in your hand, to watch and see what you do to me?” Tony nodded, then shook his head, slowing the motion of his hand until it stopped, and he just held Jethro’s cock. Jethro leaned into him, resting his forehead on Tony’s shoulder for a moment. He moved back a bit, speaking low into Tony’s ear. “Whatever you want, Tony. I love you.”

Tony shuddered, letting go of Jethro’s cock and wrapping his arms around his waist, holding on tightly. “I want you to be safe, Jeth.”

“I am, Tony. I’m here, with you, we’re both safe.” Jethro ran one hand soothingly along Tony’s back, the other making it way up to Tony’s hair, caressing and massaging.

Tony pulled back, looking into Jethro’s eyes. “Jeth… would you… I want you inside me.”

Jethro sat up, looking intently in Tony’s eyes, then nodded. “Anything you want. Just tell me if you change your mind.”

Tony nodded, then scooted back on the bed, reaching for the nightstand drawer and pulling out a condom and a packet of lube. He handed the packet to Jethro, who opened it, hands shaking slightly, and put a generous amount on his fingers. Tony opened the condom wrapper, and rolled the sheath onto Jethro cock, holding out his hand toward the packet of lube. Jethro put some on his fingers, and Tony reached down and slowly started to cover Jethro’s cock with the slippery stuff. Jethro’s eyes closed and he breathed in sharply, the air escaping in a slight hiss. After a moment Tony leaned in and kissed Jethro’s lips hungrily, then pulled back and moved to lie on his stomach. He felt Jethro shift on the bed, one hand caressing Tony’s shoulders then moving down his back, tracing his spine, then reaching his ass, caressing and massaging his cheeks. Then there were lubed fingers sliding between his cheeks, caressing his anus, tracing the tight ring of muscle until Tony’s hips jerked and the muscle started to relax. One slippery finger circled the edge of that ring, then slipped inside, moving back and forth and around, soothing and relaxing while the other hand continued to rub and squeeze.

Tony groaned in pleasure as a second finger joined the first, introducing more lube and slowly relaxing and widening the passage. Jethro’s leg moved over Tony’s, pulling them closer, letting Jethro’s cock press up against Tony’s thigh. Jethro started to rock against Tony, and Tony began to move with him, small sounds escaping his mouth as Jethro’s fingers moved and twisted inside him, reaching deeper and moving apart.

A third finger, and Tony was rocking back on Jethro’s hand in earnest now, breathing heavily. “Soon, Jeth, please…” Jethro’s forehead dropped to Tony’s back, and Tony could hear him saying “god, Tony, you feel so good, wanna be in you, gonna be amazing” and then Jethro’s fingers slipped out of Tony and his hands were gently spreading Tony’s cheeks a bit further apart, and then the head of Jethro’s cock pressed against the muscle and slid smoothly in.

Tony gasped and tried to move back and take more of Jethro’s cock inside, but Jethro had a firm grip on his hips and wouldn’t let him move. “Wait, Tony…. I don’t want to hurt you, give yourself a minute.” Tony could feel Jethro’s body trembling, and knew he was holding back, fighting the desire to bury himself quickly. Tony forced himself to relax, let himself open up a bit more, and Jethro slowly slid in, moving a little at a time, until he was finally all the way there.

Jethro leaned in to Tony, kissing his shoulder and neck, whispering words of love. He gently pulled with his leg and hand, shifting them both onto their sides, restricting his own movement so he would be less likely to lose control and thrust too hard. He shifted so he was flush against Tony’s body, then moved his hand to grasp Tony’s cock. His right arm was trapped under Tony’s side, but he move his hand enough to reach Tony’s left nipple, and he played with that while he waited for Tony to adjust to the new position.

Tony felt full and safe and completely in the moment. There was no pain, just a joy in the connection that he never wanted to lose. He began shallow thrusts with his hips, his cock into Jethro’s hand, his ass around Jethro’s cock. Jethro started to move with him, and they moved slowly at first, then began to build speed and force, Jethro’s hand tightening on Tony’s cock, Tony clenching around Jethro. There were no words, just movement and the sound of breathing and skin on skin and pleasure, until Tony’s breath stuttered and he gasped and cried out as he came hard into Jethro’s hand and all over himself and the sheets. Jethro continued to thrust hard into Tony, control lost, pressing his whole body against him as if he wanted to get all of him inside. He moved his hand from Tony’s spent cock, wrapping his arm around Tony and thrusting in one last time as he held Tony tightly against him, a sound in-between a groan and a scream released from his chest as he pulsed and came inside Tony, his whole body shaking with release.

They lay there, still joined, until they were breathing normally again. Jethro slowly and carefully eased his way out of Tony, shifting away from him, removing the condom and wrapping it in a tissue he grabbed from the nightstand. Tony rolled onto his back, reaching out to smooth Jethro’s sweaty hair. Jethro grabbed a few more tissues and cleaned Tony off as best he could, then dropped all of it onto the floor, reaching for Tony and pulling him into a hug. He buried his face in Tony’s neck, and Tony felt Jethro’s shoulders shaking just a little. He said nothing, just caressed his lover until Jethro sniffed a bit and pulled back. Tony moved his hand to the side of Jethro’s face, looking into eyes with slightly damp lashes.

“Thank you, Jeth. Thank you so much. You gave me just what I needed.” Tony leaned in, kissing Jethro’s lips lightly, whispering “I love you.”

Tony held his lover until he felt Jethro start to relax, and pulled back enough to reach for the sheets at the foot of the bed, pulling them up to cover them both. Tony lay on his back; Jethro moved to throw one leg over Tony’s, lay his arm across Tony’s chest, and his head on Tony’s shoulder. They were asleep within minutes, the light still bathing them in a soft glow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fortune in Jethro's cookie is one I got years ago at a restaurant in China Town in Manhattan.


	22. Common Ground

**Waking Up At Tony’s**

Jethro woke a lot faster than he would have liked; his stomach felt funny and was making some strange noises. He scrambled out of bed and into the bathroom. After about ten minutes he felt a lot better, cleaned up a bit, and walked back into the bedroom. Jethro could see Tony in the dim morning light; he was lying on his back, one arm on top of the covers, the other on the pillow above his head. He thought Tony was asleep, but as he reached the bed Tony moved the arm from on top of the covers and lifted them so Jethro could crawl back into bed. Settling on his side, propping his head on his hand, he looked at Tony, whose eyes remained closed.

“You okay?” Tony asked.

“Yeah.”

Tony rolled onto his side, facing Jethro and snuggling into him, eyes still closed. Jethro reached out and stroked Tony’s hair.

“Tony?”

“Mmm hmm?”

“Why did we have Chinese food twice yesterday?”

The corner of Tony’s mouth twitched a little. “Comfort food.”

“Ah.”

“Too much comfort food?”

“Yeah.”

“Oops.”

Jethro snorted. Tony cracked an eye open and looked up at him. Jethro stared back.

“I could make it up to you, Jeth, if you want.”

Jethro tilted his head a bit.

“And how would you do that, Tony?”

Tony grinned widely, then surged up and over Jethro, pushing him onto his back and moving to cover Jethro’s body with his own. He started kissing Jethro, quick little pecks all over his face, neck, shoulders and chest, alternating kisses with the word “sorry” over and over. Jethro was laughing and trying to push Tony off; Tony grabbed Jethro’s wrists and pinned them over his head. He started nipping at Jethro’s neck, still offering muffled apologies. Jethro used his feet to get some leverage and managed to roll Tony onto his back; they ended up with positions reversed except that now Jethro’s wrists were pinned behind his back.

Jethro started twisting around, trying to get his hands free.

Tony let out a small gasp. “Jeth!”

“You want something?”

“Keep moving like that, and yeah, I’m gonna want something.” Still holding Jethro’s wrists, Tony pulled his lover closer, so Jethro could feel Tony’s erection pressing into his thigh.

Jethro stopped moving and their eyes met. He lowered his head and kissed Tony’s lips, lightly running his tongue over them. Tony made a muffled sound and released Jethro’s wrists, moving one hand to rub Jethro’s ass and the other to the back of his head, deepening the kiss. Jethro moved his own hands, bringing them up to either side of Tony’s head, burying his fingers in Tony’s hair and holding him in place as he escalated the kiss, increasing the urgency and passion. Tony moaned in appreciation, shifted his weight, and reversed their positions again, moving on top of Jethro, letting go of him to reach over to the nightstand and grab the packet of lube they’d taken out the night before. A few seconds later he had his hand wrapped around both their erections, slicking them, then let go and got a hold of Jethro’s ass again, pulling him closer. Tony then started to move his hips, thrusting lightly against his lover, grunting, and Jethro’s hands grabbed his hips and started to speed him up. Cocks rubbing together, they moved in sync, both panting and grunting, giving in to the urgent need to find release. It was quick, practically explosive, and they came together at roughly the same time, Tony crying out wordlessly, hands clenched in Jethro’s hair, and Jethro practically growling, gripping Tony’s hips.

The lay together, catching their breath, grinning at each other. After a few minutes, Jethro spoke.

“Apology accepted.”

Tony laughed. They gazed at each other for a moment, then both started to shift as they became aware of the wet mess between them.

“Shower,” they said in unison.

 **Breakfast Conversation**

Jethro was in the kitchen, dressed in a t-shirt and sweats, hair still damp, making a breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast, when Tony appeared, dressed similarly. Tony walked up behind Jethro, dropping a kiss on the back of his neck. Jethro grinned, and commented over his shoulder, “You could have done that earlier if you hadn’t taken so long.”

Tony drew back. “I’ll have you know that perfect hair takes time, Jethro.”

Jethro put down the spatula he was using, and turned to consider Tony’s hair, looking it over carefully. Tony posed, narrowing his eyes and looking off into the distance while drawing himself up and placing his hands strategically on his hips.

“Huh,” Jethro said. He tilted his head, reached out and placed a finger under Tony’s chin, and moved Tony’s head slightly to the left. Tony’s lips twitched as he fought back a smile. Jethro narrowed his eyes, then nodded. “Needs something.”

Tony’s eyes widened and he glanced at his lover. “What?” he asked in a concerned voice.

“Just this.” Jethro reached up with both hands and messed up Tony’s hair, rubbing all over his head quickly, then ducking as Tony’s arms flew up in an attempt to block him.

“Aaagh! I can’t believe you did that!” Tony reached out and thwapped Jethro on the head before retreating to a safe distance. When Jethro made to follow, Tony called out, “Food! You can’t leave the food!” Jethro grinned at him and went back to the skillet, picking up the spatula.

“You know I’ll just get you later,” he said.

“Yeah,” Tony grumbled, “but you won’t get me now, and that’s what matters.”

“Why?”

“No clue. Just does.”

“Ah.”

Tony worked on smoothing out his hair.

“You know,” Jethro said, “you could get a haircut like mine and sleep in a good ten to fifteen minutes longer in the mornings.”

Tony stared at him. “No way. I’ve got standards.”

Jethro turned to look at him. “Oh, really.”

Tony’s eyes widened as he realized what he’d just implied, and he involuntarily backed up a step. “Uh, not that there’s anything wrong with your hair, Jeth. Really. It looks great on you. Just, um… don’t think it would look so hot on me, that’s all.”

Jethro smirked at him. “That’s two I owe you, Tony.”

Tony sighed.

Jethro turned back to the stove. “Bring your plate over, food’s ready.”

They both loaded up on food, moving their plates to the table, and Tony went to the refrigerator to grab the orange juice. He poured them each a glass, replaced the carton, then went to sit down with Jethro, wincing as his rear end contacted the chair.

Jethro was immediately concerned. “Tony?”

Tony opened his mouth, but Jethro interrupted with a growl. “If you say you’re fine, I’ll make it three.”

Tony sighed. “I’m a little sore, but it’ll pass.” He picked up his fork and started eating.

Jethro’s face fell. “Maybe we shouldn’t have –“

“Oh no, you don’t. We damn well should have. See, this is why I didn’t want to say anything.”

“Tony, I just don’t want to hurt you. I never want to do that.”

Tony sighed. He put down his fork and reached out for Jethro’s hand, which was given to him immediately. “Jeth, it didn’t hurt at the time. It was great. I want to do it again. I told you, I’ve had some experience, so I knew what to expect, and believe me, how I feel today is nothing compared to how good it felt last night. No worries, okay?”

Jethro still looked concerned, but he nodded. They ate in silence for a few minutes, and then he spoke up. “What kind of experience?”

Tony grinned. “I told you I’ve never been with a guy before you. I had a girlfriend or two who were into toys.”

“I see.” Jethro looked like he was going to say more, but he shook his head slightly and went back to eating. Tony looked at him for a moment, then smiled. “Hey, I meant it just now. It was great and I want to do it again. And if you want to try it sometime, I’ll be happy to help. If you don’t, that’s okay too.”

Jethro smiled at him. “I told you I was willing to give it a shot. Just be gentle with me.” He fluttered his eyelashes at Tony, who stared at him then burst into laughter.

“Never, ever thought I’d see you do something like that!”

Jethro grinned at him. “I have a sense of humor. I just don’t usually show it at work, that’s all.”

Tony gave him a warm smile. “I’m glad I get to see it.”

They finished their breakfast, and Tony rested his elbow on the table, propping his head on his hand. “Whaddya want to do today?”

Jethro considered that. “We’re on call, so nothing too involved. Maybe pick up the wood for the cabinet; I finished the plans, can show them to you; unless you want some changes made, we can go get it.” Tony nodded. Jethro looked at him seriously. “Also want to know where you remember seeing Johnson before.”

Tony grimaced. “It’s nothing that will help the case.”

Jethro frowned. “Still need to know.”

Tony sighed, and looked at Jethro, clearly troubled. “I’ll tell you, but I warn you now, it’s not going to make much sense. Can we wait, though, until we go to your place?”

Jethro looked confused by that request, but he agreed readily enough. “Want to head over there after we clean up, or do you have things to do here?”

Tony thought about that. “How about I meet you there in a bit? Let me get a few things done, and I’ll catch up to you by eleven or so.”

“Sounds good.”

They both got up, and Tony cleaned up while Jethro disappeared in the direction of the bedroom. He came back out a few minutes later carrying his pack. “I’ll see you in a few hours,” he said, sounding more like he was handing out a deadline at work. Tony shot him a look and Jethro grinned at him, then left.

 **Truth In The Basement**

Jethro was down in the basement, looking over the plans again, when Tony came trotting down the stairs. “Hey, Boss!”

Jethro shot him a look. “What do you mean, ‘Boss,’ Tony?”

Tony grimaced. “Oh. Sorry. Habit.”

Jethro shook his head, smiling, then pointed at the box Tony was carrying. “What ya got there?”

Tony smiled and held the box out to him. “Grabbed those pictures from Abby on my way out last night. Brought them over, thought we could put them up this weekend.”

Jethro took the box, set it down on the work bench, and took out the pictures. He unwrapped them both and laid them down on the bench. “Gotta say, I wasn’t too happy when she took them… but now I’m glad she did.”

Tony watched Jethro looking at the pictures and smiled. “Me, too.”

Jethro smiled and tilted his head a bit, in that way Tony was starting to realize he’d found endearing for a long time. The pictures went back in the box, and Jethro reached out for a stool, seating himself and gesturing for Tony to do the same. “So. We’re here. Shoot.”

Tony sighed as he sat down. “You’re not going to like it.”

Jethro stayed silent, waiting.

Tony sighed again, then sat back and looked up at the ceiling. “It was a dream.”

“A dream,” Jethro repeated, his voice flat.

Tony glanced over at him. “Two nights ago.” He fidgeted while Jethro stared at him. “Okay, summary. I was in the office, and your desk was empty, and I mean cleared off, like it wasn’t yours anymore. It was weird, and I knew something was wrong, but no one else seemed to. I went to look for you, and ended up here.” Tony gestured at the empty space. “You weren’t here, and none of your stuff was either. Then all of a sudden Shannon’s there.” He pointed at the center of the floor, where the boat used to be. Glancing at Jethro, he saw that Jethro had stiffened, his face expressionless. Tony pressed on, feeling tense. “She was in black and white, like an old movie. She said I needed to find you soon, or it would be too late. Then she was just gone, and there was a man there… I looked at him and his eyes really freaked me out. They were so… empty. Sort of soulless. He said it was too late. And then I woke up.” Tony looked over at Jethro again, but for once couldn’t get a read on him. “I fell asleep again pretty quickly, and didn’t really remember the dream… I just knew I’d seen Johnson somewhere before. It wasn’t until he said it wasn’t too late when he was talking about… about you, that it all clicked.”

Jethro was silent, staring at the floor. Tony wasn’t sure what to say or do, but he knew he couldn’t take the silence.

“I remember now that I felt bad when I woke up, like I shouldn’t have dreamt about her, like it wasn’t my place.” He let out a small, fake laugh. “I feel like I should apologize, but that would just make it worse.” He glanced over and saw that Jethro was looking at him now. “Funny thing is, the other day when I was here and saw the plans, I looked at her picture. I said something, I don’t know what, and I could have sworn I heard… well, I thought it was her. But that’s silly… isn’t it?”

Tony sat there, looking at Jethro, who was staring at the far wall now, clearly trying to get his feelings under control. Half expecting to hear Jethro tell him to get out, Tony started to get up, only to stop when Jethro started to talk quietly.

“Something I never told you, or anyone, about what happened when I was trapped in that car, in the river… I saw Shannon. She didn’t say anything, but I could see her smiling at me. Kelly, too. Kelly kept telling me to go back. Then I was lying there on the dock, trying to get my bearings.” Jethro swallowed hard, then turned to look at Tony, blinking back the moisture in his eyes. “I’ve kept Shannon’s picture down here since she died. I talk to her sometimes… used to drive all my exes nuts. Thing is, she’d usually answer me. I’d have whole conversations with her. At first I thought I was going crazy, then I wondered if maybe it was real… finally I decided it didn’t matter one way or another… whatever it was, she was still in my life, and I was grateful for that.” He cleared his throat, then reached out toward Tony, who grasped his hand firmly. Jethro squeezed his hand, hard, and started talking again. “I talked to her, the night after we first thought maybe there was something between us. She told me to go for it… said she wanted me to be happy and to really be in love again.”

Tony caught his lip between his teeth, using his free hand to quickly wipe at his own eyes. Jethro turned to him, looking at him seriously. “So… I don’t know what’s real. I don’t know if your dream means anything, or if you really did hear her down here. But I’m not mad at you for having those… experiences. Maybe… maybe I’m even glad I can share her with you, a little bit. I don’t know.”

They stared at each other for a moment, then Jethro squeezed Tony’s hand again, let go, and stood, moving to the work bench and taking out the plans for the cabinet. He opened them up and gestured for Tony to join him. Tony did, looking down at the plans, but not really seeing them.

“Jeth… “

“Yeah?”

Tony took a deep breath. “You still planning to interrogate Johnson more on Monday?”

“Yup.”

“You aren’t gonna like this, and I’m probably breaking a rule here, but… could you not do that? Just… just let it go, okay?”

Jethro let go of the paper and turned to face Tony. “Why?”

Tony winced a bit at the tone of Jethro’s voice. “Look, I know you don’t want to back away from anything, being a Marine and all… but we have his confession for all five murders and for the kidnapping. We don’t need to do more. Let the shrinks and the lawyers hash it out.”

Jethro reached out and head slapped Tony; it was a lighter slap than usual. “I asked why, Tony.”

Tony glared at him and moved into his space a bit, meeting his eyes. “Because he freaks me out. Because he threatened you, and I wanted to rip the bastard apart for that. Because that dream felt like a warning, and I really, really don’t want to find out later on that it’s too late. Because if somehow he does get loose and come after you, you won’t want to let me protect you. And because I love you, damn it!” Tony continued to stare; to his surprise, Jethro looked away. That sent all kinds of alarm bells through Tony’s head.

“What is it, Jeth? There’s something you aren’t telling me, isn’t there.”

Jethro made a face, as if he’d tasted something nasty. “There isn’t anything, Tony, not really… just that Ducky warned me to be careful.” He looked at Tony, seeing the skepticism in his face. “Okay, fine… he freaks me out too. And no, I don’t particularly want to interrogate him again any more than you do.” Tony relaxed, but stiffened up again as Jethro continued. “But I need to make sure we don’t leave any holes that let some lawyer dig him out, and I don’t know how we do that other than by continuing the interrogation. I seem to be the only one he’ll talk to… if you can think of a way around that, please tell me.”

Tony shook his head. “I don’t know, Jeth… but he was looking at you like you were some piece of meat and he was a starving man. You will let me be on your six if you’re going to continue to talk to him.” Tony’s tone made it clear he wasn’t asking.

Jethro looked at him; every habit, every pattern he’d established with his team prompted him to snarl at Tony and get him to back off, but he remembered Ducky’s comments about Johnson’s interest in him seeming to be sexual, and thought about Tony’s reaction when he’d first seen the picture of Johnson’s drowning victim, and their conversation afterwards… so he did what he knew he had to do.

“Okay.”

“Jethro, I mean – wait, did you just agree with me?”

Jethro smirked at him. “Think so.”

Tony seemed not to know what to do about that. “Oh.” He smiled suddenly. “You must really like me.”

Jethro laughed. Tony moved toward him, reaching out, and Jethro’s cell phone rang. Jethro held up one hand in Tony’s direction while he grabbed his phone off the workbench and flipped it open.

“Yeah, Gibbs.” Silence for a moment while he listened. He hung up without a word and sighed. “Duty calls. Call McGee, see if he’s okay to go. He has a hint of a headache, tell him to meet us in the office. Call Ziva and tell her to meet us there.” Gibbs started toward the stairs, intending to go change.

Tony frowned. “I thought we were second in line. Pearson’s team got called out already?”

Gibbs shook his head. “No… but the only witness on scene is a ten year old girl, and she’s deaf.”

Tony nodded, pulling out his cell and hitting speed dial.


	23. Shaky Ground

**Doubts**

Gibbs and Tony rode together to the scene. Neither was in a great mood; Gibbs because the dispatcher had told him next to nothing, and he hated to walk into a crime scene unprepared, and Tony because his conversation with Gibbs felt unfinished. He knew he should be thrilled that Gibbs had agreed to let Tony back him up when dealing with Johnson, but that fact alone wasn’t enough to get Tony to relax.

McGee had claimed to be fine, so he was meeting them there. Ziva was going directly to the office, to supply information from the computers as soon as it was needed. Tony shifted in his seat; as much as he liked being alone with Gibbs, it felt strange going to a crime scene without the others in the car.

The flashing lights of the police cars confirmed they were in the right place, a small park with a baseball field and lots of benches. Gibbs pulled into the lot and parked, and he and Tony got out of the car. Tony spotted McGee’s car; he motioned to it and looked over at Gibbs, who grunted acknowledgment. They could easily see the small crowd of police officers near a row of benches along the path, and headed over there. McGee emerged from the crowd, an apprehensive look on his face as he approached.

Tony greeted him. “Hey, McPrompt! Why so worried?”

McGee shot a look at Gibbs. “Uh, Boss…”

The local police were dispersing; Gibbs and Tony both looked over at the scene to see four people in NCIS jackets, obviously processing the scene. Gibbs stopped walking and looked over at McGee. “What the hell?!”

One of the NCIS agents who had been sitting next to a little girl on a bench got up and walked briskly over to join them. She was tall, blonde, and had the same apprehensive look as McGee. Gibbs stared at her as she approached.

“Why the hell did we get called out if you’re already on the case, Laurie?”

Laurie Pearson grimaced. “I’m sorry, Gibbs. I called dispatch and asked them to get in touch with you, not to call out your whole team.” She glanced apologetically at Tony while McGee fidgeted and Gibbs just looked angry. “I told them I just needed your expertise in sign language; I guess they didn’t tell you we were on scene?”

Gibbs sighed and shook his head. “No, just that there was a ten year old deaf girl as a witness. Your name never came up.”

Pearson shook her head. “Again, I’m sorry.”

Gibbs looked at her. “Don’t apologize. Not your fault dispatch screwed up.”

She nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

“What’s the story?”

Pearson gestured to the bench with the girl sitting there. “She was here at the park with her father. Mom’s Navy, stationed overseas. Father’s been taken to the hospital with several knife wounds. He’s unconscious, and none of us can communicate with her well enough to find out exactly what happened. No other witnesses. I remembered that you know sign language, so I called dispatch.”

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. “How’d you know?”

She smiled at that. “I was talking with Abby once, and we were discussing how many languages we each speak. She included signing, and I asked when she got the opportunity to practice. She said you two sign regularly.”

Gibbs nodded. “Why not just call her?”

Pearson gave him a skeptical look, while Tony and McGee smirked at each other. “Are you crazy? Call Abby out to a crime scene? Everyone knows you’ll kill whoever’s responsible if anything were to happen to her.”

Gibbs tilted his head a bit and shot twin glares at his two agents. McGee’s smirk vanished instantly. “Uh, I’ll call Ziva, tell her she can go back home. See you later Boss, Tony.” He headed back to his car. Tony just grinned at Gibbs’ glare until Gibbs gave up, looking back to Pearson.

“Any relatives to call?” he asked, gesturing toward the girl on the bench.

Pearson shrugged. “Won’t know until you talk to her. Her name’s Cindy. Director Vance is supposed to contact her mother’s CO, get her back here on emergency leave.”

Gibbs nodded, pushed his NCIS cap back a little on his head, and walked over to Cindy. Tony turned to Pearson, giving her his charming smile. “He’s my ride, so I’m stuck here. Need any help?”

Pearson gave him a smile back. “How about you work with Alyssa on sketching? She’s a probie, could probably use the help. I’ll introduce you. We’ve got blood and the knife on the ground, signs of a struggle…” Tony trailed after her, glancing over at Gibbs, who was sitting on the bench next to Cindy, holding the crying girl in his arms and rubbing her back. Tony didn’t miss the pained expression on Gibbs’ face and wondered what he was remembering. He looked away to see a beautiful young woman with dark curly hair tied back in a ponytail straighten up in response to Pearson calling her name. Pearson motioned Tony closer. “Alyssa Martin, Tony DiNozzo.”

Alyssa looked at Tony, a little wide-eyed and blushing. “Agent DiNozzo.” She held out her hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Tony took her hand and shook it, smiling at her. Her face turned even more red. Tony couldn’t help himself; he went into flirt mode.

“I can’t believe we haven’t met yet. How did such a beautiful woman sneak past me back at the office?” He pressed her hand and held it a moment longer than necessary.

Alyssa smiled and giggled. Pearson rolled her eyes. “I think I should make you wait for Gibbs in the car, Tony.”

Tony grinned at her. “Nah, then I’ll just get in trouble for fiddling with the radio. You wouldn’t want me to get Gibbs-slapped, would you?”

Pearson gave him a mock glare. “Oh, please. I haven’t seen Gibbs smack you in a long time.”

Alyssa gasped. “He _hits_ you?” She looked over at Gibbs with a fearful expression.

 _Probies. Geez._ “They’re just love taps, really.”

Pearson snorted. Tony smiled and winked at Alyssa, who looked like she might pass out. She giggled again and dropped her sketch book. Tony bent down to pick it up and handed it to her with a little bow. Pearson muttered something under her breath and turned to walk away. “Back to work, Alyssa. Try not to let Tony overwhelm you.”

Tony helped Alyssa with the sketch, giving her advice and showing her how to measure the distances accurately. As she worked on her sketch, he watched Gibbs with Cindy. She wasn’t crying anymore; she was sitting up and signing enthusiastically with Gibbs, who was smiling at her. They were close enough for Tony to catch the happy but slightly wistful look on Gibbs’ face. Gibbs would hold up a hand every so often and pause to write something down. At one point Cindy laughed and threw herself into Gibbs’ arms; he caught her, grinning, and hugged her for a moment before he gently set her back and continued to sign.

“Tony? Can you help me measure the distance between these marks in the path and the knife?” Tony turned back to her and smiled, but he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in his gut. _He should get the chance to be a father again. And I can’t give him that. This thing we have… it’s not fair to him._ He watched as Gibbs pulled his cell phone off his belt and made a call, then jumped as he felt a hand on his arm. He looked at Alyssa, who had recovered her equilibrium enough to give him a very flirtatious look, stroking his arm and running her fingers over his hand. “You with me, Tony?” He simply smiled and tried to focus on the job, regretting that he had flirted with her at all.

Gibbs had quickly found that Cindy was very smart and observant. He was able to get a lot of details from her; it seemed that her father’s attacker was homeless or a drug addict or both, based on the description Cindy gave him, and apparently the knifing had happened when the mugger had reached for Cindy and her father had tried to stop him. There were no family members or friends to call; they’d only recently moved to the area. He asked Cindy if she’d like to stay with his friend who could sign until her mother could get home, telling her a little about Abby. Cindy liked the idea, so he grabbed his phone to call Abby and make sure that would work for her – not that he had any doubts; he knew she would give up anything to help care for the little girl.

“Gibbs!”

“Hey, Abs.”

“What’s up? Want me to come over and give you guys some advice about bedroom activities?”

Gibbs pulled the phone away from his ear and started at it. Shaking his head, he brought it back into place. “I’ll pass, Abs. We’re doing just fine in that department.”

Abby made a strange squealing sound and started to babble about something; Gibbs didn’t catch the topic and didn’t cut her off because he was staring at Tony. More precisely, he was starting at Pearson’s probie, who was clearly coming on to Tony, touching his hand, gazing into his eyes, and reaching up to straighten a collar that didn’t need straightening. He growled as Tony smiled at her.

“What did you say, Gibbs?”

“Nothing, Abs. Can you stand a houseguest for a few days?”

“Gibbs! What’s wrong? You can’t break up with Tony, you guys are perfect for each other!”

Gibbs watched as the woman tossed her ponytail over her shoulder and reached out to brush imaginary dirt off Tony’s face. “Abs, we both have homes. Why would either of us need to stay with you?”

“If you guys call it quits, you’ll both need your heads examined, that’s why!”

Gibbs cut her off before she could go into a major rant, explaining Cindy’s predicament. “I thought she could stay with you; we could meet you at the lab and you could put together a picture of their attacker. Her mom should be stateside within a few days.”

“Of course I’ll help! Where are you guys?” Gibbs told her, and she laughed. “I’m at a bookstore only about ten minutes away. I’ll be there in a few, okay, Gibbs? That way you and Tony can get back to doing much more fun things.” She hung up.

Gibbs watched as Tony helped bag the evidence; the woman he was working with pretended to stumble and fall. Tony reached out to catch her, and they both laughed as he set her upright. Gibbs growled as her hand brushed Tony rear, but calmed down a bit as he saw Tony’s smile fade and watched him step away from her. He looked back at Cindy as she tugged on his sleeve and asked if she was going to stay with his friend.

Abby arrived within fifteen minutes, and she and Cindy hit it off immediately. Cindy had been a little reluctant to leave Gibbs, but when Abby reminded her that a sketch of her attacker would help them catch the guy, she practically dragged Abby to the car. Gibbs watched them go, then put in a call to Vance, letting him know the arrangements he’d made for Cindy’s care. He then walked over to Pearson and gave her the information he’d gotten; she sent two of her agents off to canvas the area for anyone who might have seen the attacker. Tony and the probie ( _what did Laurie say her name was? Anna? Anita?_ ) were wrapping up evidence collection, laughing together about something.

Gibbs had mixed feelings watching Tony interact with the woman. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen hundreds of times before, but it was the first time he’d seen it since he and Tony had gotten involved. There was the part of him that had always experienced a vicarious enjoyment of Tony’s flirting with women… it was still there, but was overshadowed by a growing sense of doubt and worry. _Is Tony going to realize that this has all been a mistake?_ He looked at her curves. _I certainly can’t give him that._ His thoughts started to snowball, as he began mentally listing all sorts of things they would probably never do… _romantic dinners out, dancing, holding hands in public…_ shaking his head, he walked over to them.

Alyssa was looking earnestly at Tony. “Would you like to go out to dinner sometime?”

Tony smiled at her. “I wish I could… but unfortunately it’s against the rules.”

She frowned. “Rules?”

“Yeah… rule 12. No dating coworkers.”

“I don’t remember any numbers for rules. But it’s not like we’re on the same team.”

Tony shook his head and sighed. “Ah, but you never know when you might have to work together. Never a good idea for agents to get involved. Oh, hey, Boss. All done?”

Gibbs nodded. “You still want a ride, DiNozzo?”

Tony shot him a quizzical look. “That would be great, Boss. Long walk home otherwise.” He gestured toward Alyssa. “Boss, this is Alyssa Martin, just assigned to Pearson’s team. Alyssa, this is the infamous Leroy Jethro Gibbs.”

Gibbs nodded to her, and she gave him a nervous smile. Gibbs turned away, and Tony went to follow. He looked back at Alyssa. “Nice meeting you,” he said, nothing in his tone of voice that wasn’t purely professional.

“You too,” she answered, her disappointment obvious.

Both men were silent on the way to the car. They tossed their jackets and caps into the backseat, got in, and buckled up. Gibbs put the key in the ignition but then just sat, staring out the windshield. Tony watched him for a minute, then reached out to touch his arm. “Boss? You okay?”

Gibbs reflected that it was probably the first time the word ‘boss’ coming from Tony felt wrong. He knew he was being silly, but he couldn’t seem to help it. He glanced over at Tony as he started the car. “Sure, fine.”

 **Confessions**

They made the ride back to Gibbs’ house in silence, with Tony getting more and more worried. _Gibbs may not be much of a talker, but he hasn’t been so distant since we got together. Maybe talking with Cindy really has made him realize that being with me means he has to give up too much._

Gibbs was having similar problems. _No question that agent’s a beautiful woman. Exactly the sort Tony likes. He’s gonna realize this is a mistake._

They pulled into the driveway, got out of the car, and went inside, Tony in front. He turned to speak to Gibbs, but the older man brushed past him, just barely bumping into him, and headed upstairs. Tony watched until Gibbs was out of sight, then followed.

He stood silently in the doorway, looking at Gibbs, who sat on the edge of the bed, removing his shoes. After dropping them to the floor, he just sat there, shoulders slumped, looking defeated in a way Tony didn’t think he’d ever seen before.

Tony cleared his throat just before walking in to the room, and watched Gibbs straighten up quickly, rise to his feet, and start unbuttoning his shirt, his back to Tony as he moved toward the dresser. Tony gathered his courage, moved over to stand right behind Gibbs, and put his hand on Gibbs’ shoulder.

“I get it, Jeth. Really. It’s okay. I know I said I’d have trouble walking away, but if –“

Gibbs turned quickly to face him, and Tony caught a glimpse of the hurt in his eyes before it was hidden by an icy countenance. “I guess I should have known the novelty would wear off quickly once a beautiful woman showed up.”

Tony’s jaw dropped. “Huh?” He reached for Gibbs again, but let his arm drop when Gibbs backed up a step.

“Anita, or Alice, or whatever her name was.” Gibbs shook his head. “Look, Tony, I know I can’t give you what she has, and I know that there are a lot of things you’re giving up by being with me… if I thought I could share, I’d offer that, but I’m a possessive bastard and I can’t do it. Hell, if I could, I might still be married to ex-wife number two.” He turned away again, removing his shirt quickly and throwing it toward the bed. He opened a drawer, grabbed a t-shirt, and turned back to see Tony walking out of the room.

 _Damn it all to hell._ Gibbs walked to the bed and sat down heavily, waiting to hear the front door slam. _Best thing that’s happened to me since I lost Shannon and Kelly, and I fuck it up royally._ He blinked back the sudden moisture in his eyes, breathing deeply and trying to figure out what he was going to do next.

“Jethro.”

Startled, Gibbs looked up to see Tony standing in front of him, holding something out on the palm of his hand. It was the Saint Bernard key chain he’d given Tony at the hotel in New York. Tony reached out and took Gibbs’ hand and placed the key chain in it.

“I had to go downstairs to get it out of my jacket pocket.” Tony sat down next to Gibbs on the bed. “Why did you give me that?”

Gibbs looked at the little dog. “As a reminder,” he said.

“Of?” Tony prompted.

Gibbs glanced over at him. “What we said to each other in that hotel room.”

Tony nodded. “And what was that?”

Gibbs shot him a slightly irritated look. Tony just smirked at him. Gibbs sighed. “I said that I love you.”

Tony nodded. “And what did I say?”

Gibbs smiled a little. “That declarations of love should involve more romance and less Fornell.”

Tony laughed. “After that, Jeth!”

Gibbs looked him in the eyes. “You said you felt the same.” Tony raised his eyebrows and motioned with his hand for Gibbs to continue. Gibbs rolled his eyes, but gave in. “You said you love me.”

Tony nodded, then reached out to nudge the dog on Gibbs’ palm. “I’m still your loyal Saint Bernard, Jethro. That just applies to a broader relationship now than it did when you first called me that.”

Gibbs nodded, looking down at the key chain, not quite trusting himself to speak. Tony reached out and gently touched Gibbs’ hand. “Jeth, I’ve told only two people in my adult life that I love them. Why would you think I’d give that up for the first pretty face to come along?”

Gibbs looked at him. “I thought you were telling me it was over between us, just now.”

Tony frowned, trying to remember exactly what he’d said. “Oh. No, I didn’t mean it that way, Jeth. It’s just… I saw how you were with that little girl, and I thought about how great you are with kids – I thought you deserve the chance to be a father again someday and you’re not likely to get that chance if you’re with me. I thought you were so quiet ‘cause she made you realize you, you know, want to have a kid again… and that being with me was a mistake.”

Gibbs shook his head. “No, Tony, not at all. Losing Kelly was… well. I couldn’t take that risk again. And our job is too dangerous; even if I wanted to be a father again, I wouldn’t take the chance that I wouldn’t be there for my child, not knowing what I know now.” He gripped Tony’s hand. “I’ve thought that maybe, when I retire, I’d volunteer, do some work with kids.”

Tony nodded. “Okay.” He looked down at their joined hands for a moment, then back up, meeting Gibbs’ eyes. “As far as Alyssa goes… yeah, she’s attractive, but I’m not interested in her. The flirting thing – it’s pretty automatic with me, but you know that already. It doesn’t mean anything. I would never do that to you, to us. You mean too much to me, Jethro.” Tony pulled his hand away and leaned in, wrapping his arms around his lover and burying his face in his neck. “Besides,” he added, his voice muffled, “she doesn’t have that coffee and sawdust smell that turns me on so much.”

Gibbs laughed, putting his arms around Tony and resting his forehead on Tony’s shoulder. “I can’t smell that much like sawdust, Tony. I haven’t done any woodworking for a while.”

Tony shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. It’s part of your natural scent now. I think you’re part tree.”

Gibbs smiled, relieved to be holding Tony when only a few minutes earlier he’d thought he’d lost him. “I think right now I’d be whatever you want me to be.”

Tony pulled back, looking at Gibbs thoughtfully. “That has all sorts of interesting possibilities.”

Gibbs looked cautiously at Tony, then said, “Never mind, I take it back.”

Tony shook his head. “Can’t. Not allowed.”

Gibbs tilted his head. “Really.”

“Yup.”

“You sure?”

“Yup.”

“Even though you owe me for this morning?”

“Huh?”

“The Chinese food.”

“Oh… wait, you said you accepted my apology!”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t owe me, just means that I don’t owe you.”

“Jeth, that’s not –“

“Mmm… think about it Tony. You really want me owing you something for that?”

“Uh… no, I guess not.”

“Well then.”

“Jeth?”

“What?”

“I think I’m confused.”

Jethro sighed. “Me, too, actually. How about we go get the wood for your cabinet?”

Tony pouted a bit. “Wouldn’t you rather…” His voice trailed off, and he looked meaningfully at the bed.

Jethro smiled. “Later. I’m still feeling a bit off.”

“Promise?”

“Of course.”

“Wood shopping it is, then.” Tony let go of Jethro and stood. Jethro got up too, then reached out and grabbed Tony’s hand, turning him around and pulling him close. His hand moved up to the back of Tony’s head and he pulled him in for a kiss, fumbling with Tony’s hand as he did so, slipping the key chain onto Tony’s palm and then closing his hand around it. Breaking the kiss, he looked Tony in the eye. “Don’t lose that.”

Tony shook his head. “Won’t.”

“Good.”


	24. Gaining Confidence

**Revelation in the Basement**

Tony leaned back on the basement steps, a beer in one hand, watching as Jethro got things organized to begin working on the cabinet. They’d gone in Jethro’s truck to his favorite lumber yard to get the wood, then to Home Depot to look at a variety of door handles and other accessories, so Tony could get an idea of what he might want. Tony hadn’t seen anything he really liked, so he was going to look online later on.

He had to admit, at least to himself, that he hadn’t really been all that focused on door handles or other fasteners. Watching Jethro looking over the wood, picking out what he wanted, running his hands over the wood to feel for flaws… that had been fascinating. He’d never really seen Jethro in this context. Sure, he’d been in the basement when Jethro had been sanding the boat (although he’d been Gibbs then, not ‘Jethro’ to Tony), but seeing him focused and intense at the beginning of a project, planning things out, that was new.

And there’d been no chance of really paying attention to the cabinet after that family had walked by. What Tony thought of as typical suburbia: the father a business type dressed in overdone casual for the weekend, slightly harried-looking mother with one little boy running ahead of her and a little girl in a stroller. The little boy, probably four years old, hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going, and had run right into Jethro’s legs. He’d staggered back, staring up at Jethro, who had laughed and waved off the mother’s apologies. Jethro had crouched down to talk to the little boy, who’d seemed a bit awed – by the silver hair, Tony had commented later. The family had moved on after a few moments, and Tony had stood in thought, the image of Jethro talking to the boy stuck in his head and threatening to mess with his comfort level.

Jethro had come up behind Tony, leaned in, and quietly spoken in his ear. “It’s you I want, Tony. Believe it.”

Tony had turned and looked at Jethro; they’d stared at each other for a moment. Tony’s expression went from serious to smirking; Jethro’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. Tony’s eyes had dropped to Jethro’s mouth, and he might have attempted something a bit inappropriate for a public venue, but Jethro’s smile had widened to a grin and he’d given Tony a light head slap, saying “Later.”

Back in the present, Tony watched Jethro for another moment. “Hey, Jeth?”

Jethro was going over some of his tools, laying things out on the workbench; he made a grunting sound that Tony took as encouragement to continue.

“It’s later.”

Jethro ran his fingers over the edge of the tool he was holding, then turned to look at Tony. “Yeah?”

Tony shot him a huge grin. “Yeah.”

Jethro grinned back. “But it’s not _later_ later.”

Tony’s face fell a bit. “It’s not?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I’m getting hungry. Don’t want to have to break for food.”

Tony tilted his head. “I can live with that. What are we gonna eat?”

Jethro shrugged. “Wanna go out?”

“Go out? You mean, like… on a date?”

Jethro shot Tony an amused look. “You seem more shocked by the idea of a date than you have been about anything we’ve done in bed together.”

Tony’s mouth opened and closed, and then he waved a hand uncertainly. “It’s just… that’s all been private, you know? A date… that would be public. In front of people.”

Jethro chuckled. “I do know what public means, Tony.” He thought about it for a minute. “Want to invite someone else to come along?”

Tony looked confused. “Would it still be a date?”

“Sure.”

“Um… okay.”

Jethro nodded and pulled his cell phone off his belt. He flipped it open and hit a button. Tony watched, feeling a bit off balance, but open to whatever Jethro had in mind. Jethro held the phone to his ear while he hunted for something in a drawer.

“Hey, Abs… how’s Cindy doing?... Sounds good… yeah, Tony and I wanted to know if you and Cindy want to join us for dinner out… uh huh… yeah?... okay, see you then.” He hung up and replaced the phone in his belt. “Abs’ll call after they visit Cindy’s dad in the hospital; he regained consciousness about an hour ago. We’ll meet them at that pub near her place.”

Tony smiled at him. “Not sure dinner out with a kid qualifies as a date, Jeth.”

Jethro walked over to him. “We can hold hands under the table,” he said softly into Tony’s ear, before heading up the stairs. “Be right back.”

Tony tilted his head back to watch Jethro jog up the stairs. Then he got up and wandered over to the workbench, looking at the tools Jethro had laid out. Scratching his head, he looked it all over. _I’d have figured you just needed a saw, a hammer, and some nails. Good thing he’s in charge._ Realizing he was right in front of the drawer holding Shannon’s picture, he glanced toward the stairs, then opened the drawer and removed the picture. He flashed back to the dream from the other night, closing his eyes against the remembered feeling of panic when he couldn’t find Jethro anywhere. He opened his eyes and looked back down at the picture. “I’m watching out for him, Shannon. I promise.”

 _I know, Tony. You have for a long time. I’m glad he has you._

Tony’s eyes widened and he turned quickly, looking around the basement but seeing no one. Swallowing, he looked back at the picture. “Um… that was you, right? I’m not imagining things?”

Silence.

“Maybe I’ve gone crazy. That would explain a lot, actually.”

He could have sworn he heard female giggling.

“Hey, no laughing! You think it’s every day a guy talks to the ghost of his lover’s wife?”

He heard the giggle again. _I’m sorry! You should have seen the expression on your face._

“Yeah, okay. But go easy on me. This is kinda new. And strange. Very, very strange.”

 _Would it help if I told you Kelly thinks you’re cute?_

Tony smiled at that, then frowned as he thought of something. “Jethro’s never said anything about talking with her down here.”

 _He hasn’t. We decided it would hurt him too much._

“Maybe,” Tony acknowledged. “But I think maybe it could make him really happy too.”

 _You could be right. But I’ve seen Jethro down here in too much pain to want to take the chance. Kelly loves her dad, and he loves her; they both know that._

Tony shifted nervously. “And you’re both okay with me? Jethro and me, I mean?”

 _Do you love him?_

Tony nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. A lot.”

 _Then of course we’re okay with the two of you being together._

Tony felt his eyes burn a little bit. “Thank you. I’ll try to be worthy of him.”

 _Oh, Tony… knock it off. It’s not about measuring up. He loves you, you love him. That’s what matters._

Tony grinned. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say from your tone of voice that you’d have Gibbs-slapped me if you could.”

 _I’d say you don’t know better._

“Oh, man – seriously?!”

 _Where do you think he got the idea for the head slaps?_

“That is so cool! Did you do it often? Slap him, I mean.”

Silence.

Tony grimaced. “You’re right behind me, aren’t you Jeth?”

“Yup.”

Tony ducked his head in anticipation of the head slap, but relaxed when Jethro’s arms slid around his waist instead. Jethro rested his chin on Tony’s shoulder and looked down at the picture. He tightened his arms around Tony, then sighed as he relaxed them. “She talked to you?”

Tony nodded, almost afraid to say anything. Jethro was silent for a moment, then shifted his head to rub his cheek against Tony’s shoulder. “I guess I wasn’t imagining it all this time, huh?”

Tony cleared his throat. “She just told me that you got the head slaps from her.”

Jethro nodded, then dropped his forehead to rest against Tony’s shoulder. He took a deep breath, then another, then moved back, releasing Tony. Tony turned to watch him walk away and sit on the stairs, wiping at his eyes. He glanced down at Shannon’s picture and moved to put it back in the drawer, but changed his mind and kept it with him as he walked over to the stairs and sat on the bottom one. He handed the picture to Jethro, who took it, running his fingers over her face. Tony kept his gaze fixed on Jethro’s face, watching as a tear escaped from the corner of his eye and ran down his cheek.

They sat in silence for a little while, Jethro looking at the picture and Tony looking at Jethro. Finally Tony reached out to caress Jethro’s face with the backs of his fingers.

“Talk to me, Jeth.”

Jethro opened his mouth, then shut it, then sighed a little. He took another deep breath, then reached out and put one arm around Tony’s shoulders.

“I think I always thought she was just in my head… that it was wishful thinking on my part. But there’s no other way for you to know where the head slaps came from, is there?”

Tony shook his head. “I thought you got them from Mike Franks.”

Jethro smiled a bit. “Could have. He did that too.”

Tony shot him a small smile, which faded quickly. “Jeth… does this change things? I mean, you find out that you can talk to Shannon, for real… maybe you don’t want me here like we have been.”

Jethro’s brow furrowed. “Tony… I can talk to her, but she’s not _here_. And this doesn’t change how I feel about you. Besides, she’d probably kick my ass if I broke it off with you because of this.” He dropped his arm from Tony’s shoulder and stood up. He walked over to the drawer, gently kissed Shannon’s picture, then put the picture back in the drawer and closed it firmly. He walked back to Tony, holding out his hand; Tony grasped it, and Jethro pulled him up to his feet. They stood looking at each other, then Jethro smiled and reached out to caress Tony’s face, running his thumb over his cheekbone. “Told you this morning I’d already decided it didn’t matter if she was real or not, that I’m just grateful she’s still in my life. Finding out for sure this has been real doesn’t change that.” He leaned in and kissed Tony’s lips softly. Tony reached up, resting his hand on the back of Jethro’s head, returning the kiss. They kept it light, and both pulled back at the same time. Jethro rested his forehead against Tony’s. “I want to see where we’re headed together. As long as you can handle the weirdness, anyway.”

Tony chuckled. “Abby’s one of my best friends, Jeth. I think that pretty much guarantees I can handle some weirdness.”

“Good point.”

Tony grinned at him, squeezed his hand, then let go. “I’m going upstairs… in the mood for a snack.”

Jethro watched him go, not doubting for a moment that Tony was leaving him down there alone on purpose. He looked back toward the drawer where Shannon’s picture lay. “Thanks for sticking with me, Shan,” he whispered. Then he went upstairs to join Tony.

 **Not Exactly A Date**

Tony sat next to Jethro in the car as they drove to meet up with Abby and Cindy. Abby had called about half an hour earlier, sounding pretty happy about Cindy’s father’s condition. He hadn’t been up to signing, but had been able to talk to Cindy briefly through Abby. Abby had laughed as she described Ben Jackson’s initial reaction to the outward appearance of the woman taking care of his daughter, but he’d gotten over it quickly once Cindy had explained everything. He was very grateful to have someone who could sign taking care of his daughter, and had been looking better by the time they left. Cindy had cried a little, but was looking forward to seeing Abby’s silver-haired fox again. Jethro had groaned out loud at that one, while Tony had been particularly gleeful, which made Jethro swear to never use the speaker phone function again.

They arrived at the pub, and were lucky enough to find a parking spot only a block away. Jethro parked the car and moved to open his door when Tony stopped him with a hand on his arm. “We’ve got a problem, Jeth.”

Jethro did a quick visual survey of their surroundings, but didn’t see anything unusual. “Tony?”

Tony was looking at him very seriously. “I think we both miscalculated. Well, you miscalculated more than me, really, since you have all the experience in this area, and I’ve got none, so I can’t really be held responsible.”

Jethro stared at Tony. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Tony gave Jethro a sad look. “When I said it wouldn’t be a real date if the kid’s there, you said we could hold hands under the table.”

Jethro made an impatient motion with one hand when Tony didn’t continue. “Yeah, so?”

Tony shook his head and sighed heavily. “We won’t be able to hold hands, Jeth. How are you supposed to talk to Cindy with one hand occupied?”

Jethro stared at Tony and tried to keep from smiling. Tony lost the sad, serious look and grinned at him. Jethro reached out to head slap him; Tony tried to duck but was unsuccessful given the lack of room in the car. Tony then reached out to return the favor, scoring a direct hit. Jethro’s eyes narrowed, even as he fought to keep from laughing.

“Careful, Tony, I think I still owe you two from earlier.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You really gonna keep track?”

“Of course. Where’s the fun in it otherwise?”

Tony sighed and got out of the car, getting a smack on his rear in the process. He turned to glare at Jethro as he exited the car as well. “That’s one of your two, Jeth!”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“We’ll see.” Jethro walked around the front of the car, breezing past Tony and setting off down the block, leaving Tony to catch up.

Abby and Cindy were already seated at a booth. Tony slid in first, across from Abby, and Jethro sat across from Cindy, after returning the hug she gave him when they reached the table. Cindy immediately launched into enthusiastic signing with Jethro, who had to tell her to slow down a bit so he could catch everything. Tony watched, smiling, until Abby kicked him under the table.

“Ow, Abs! What was that for?”

“Ignoring me. So, did my favorite couple do anything fun this afternoon?” She leaned forward and took a sip of her soda, then grinned at Tony. “I want details!”

“None to give, sorry. We went shopping.” Tony opened his menu and started to look over the options.

Abby’s jaw dropped. “Shopping?! Gibbs went shopping? What’s wrong with this picture?”

Tony peered at her over the top of the menu. “Shopping for wood, Abs. He’s building me a cabinet to hold DVDs and stuff when I’m over at his place.”

Abby sat back in her seat. “Ah, that’s a relief. I was worried that we had a possible sign of the apocalypse here.”

“No, not yet.”

“Good! And it’s awesome that he’s building you something! Tony, that must mean you’re in!”

Tony smirked at her. “Not yet, Abs. Working on it, though.”

It took a moment, but her eyes widened and sparkled and her hands flew to mouth. She looked from Tony to Jethro and back, then launched herself across the table to hug Tony. He laughed. “Shh! Don’t let Jeth know I just said that – he’d give me the mother of all head slaps.”

Abby nodded, grinning. Jethro glanced over at them, looking suspiciously at Tony, who just shot him his fake innocent smile. Jethro grimaced and turned back to Cindy. Tony and Abby watched them talk for a moment, then Abby translated some of it for Tony.

“She’s telling him all about the sketch we did of the guy who attacked them, and how Pearson told her she did a good job.”

“Any leads?”

“Yeah, we got a probable match. Guy’s been arrested for assault and drug possession before. Pearson’s coordinating with the LEOs.”

“Sounds good.” Tony’s attention was still divided between Abby, the menu, and watching Gibbs’ hands move. Abby smirked at him.

“Now she’s telling him all about her dad.”

Tony decided on a burger with swiss cheese, bacon, mushrooms, and barbecue sauce. “Any idea when her mom’s going to be back?”

Abby nodded. “Vance called me this afternoon. She should be back Monday morning. I’m gonna take Cindy to the hospital to see her dad, and the whole family will be reunited there.”

Tony smiled at her. “You’re gonna cry.”

“I know! But they’ll be happy tears.”

Tony reached out and squeezed Abby’s hand. “You’re the best, Abs.”

She smiled at him, then glanced at Jethro. “Careful, Tony! He might suspect something.”

Jethro glanced over at her and rolled his eyes. Cindy noticed their hands and broke off her conversation with him to start signing to Abby instead. Tony let go of Abby’s hand and sat back, resting his right hand on his leg. Jethro opened up his menu and laid it flat, then moved his left hand under the table and grabbed Tony’s, interlacing their fingers. Tony smiled.

Abby, meanwhile, was laughing. She signed to Cindy, speaking as she did. “No, Tony’s not my boyfriend! He’s just a really good friend. He already has someone he loves very much.”

Tony turned a bit red as Jethro squeezed his hand. Cindy looked at Tony, then at Jethro, then back at Abby, once again signing rapidly. Abby’s eyes widened, and she looked at Tony. “She’s asking if you and Gibbs are together.”

Tony gaped at her. “What?! Why?”

Cindy must have caught on to his question, because she grinned at him and signed again to Abby. Abby laughed again. “She said you and the silver-haired fox sit the same way her uncle and his boyfriend do: close together and with their hands under the table where no one can see.”

Tony stared at Cindy and then looked over at Jethro, who was looking back at him, raising an eyebrow. Tony shrugged helplessly. Jethro smirked at him, then turned to Cindy. “Busted,” he said, making sure to pronounce the word clearly enough that she could read it on his lips. She giggled, leaned over to look under the table, then sat up again, giggling some more. She signed to Jethro, who looked at her gravely and said, “Thank you.” She smiled at him and turned to Abby, engaging in another animated conversation.

Tony turned to Jethro. “What did she say?”

Jethro smiled at him. “That her parents have explained to her that her uncle and his boyfriend love each other, but that could make other people unhappy, so it’s important to keep it a secret. She said she’ll keep us a secret too.”

“Oh,” Tony said. He watched the little girl’s fingers fly as she and Abby talked. “I’m getting tired just watching her.”

Jethro leaned in and spoke in his ear. “Don’t get too tired. It’ll be _later_ , later.”

Tony looked at Jethro and grinned. “About time.”

The waitress came over to take their order. She was young, pretty, and obviously taken with Tony. Her flirting wasn’t very subtle; she leaned over the table a bit, making Jethro sit back, and made sure that Tony knew that if he needed anything else, _anything at all_ , he should let her know right away. Jethro and Tony looked at each other as she walked away. Tony rolled his eyes. “That one was not my fault, Jeth!” Jethro just shook his head, smiling, and gave Tony’s hand another squeeze. Abby was trying not to laugh, and Cindy signed to Jethro that obviously the waitress wasn’t very observant. That threw Tony a bit, once Abby translated for him. “Isn’t she too young to get all that?”

Abby shook her head. “She compensates for not being able to hear by being more visual than most kids. She probably catches a lot of body language and knows more about what it means than the average ten year old.” Tony looked over at Cindy, who smiled at him. He looked back at Abby.

“How do you say ‘smart’ in sign language?” She showed him. He disengaged his hand from Jethro’s, with a little difficulty, pointed at Cindy, and made a clumsy attempt at signing ‘smart’ to her. It got the point across; she giggled and beamed at him. He grinned back at her. Abby started talking to her again, so Tony sat back and looked around the room. Jethro leaned in again.

“Having a good date so far?”

Tony turned his head to look at him. “Actually, yeah. I’m still not entirely sure this is really a date, but I guess it’s close enough.” He grinned when Jethro shot him a mock glare. “Maybe if things continue to go smoothly I’ll let you have a good-night kiss.”

Jethro rolled his eyes. “I think you’ll let me have more than that, Tony.”

Tony tilted his head to one side and considered that. “Well, yeah, probably, but there is a principle involved.”

“Which one is that?”

“The one that says maybe I can trade away some of those head slaps you claim you owe me.”

Jethro shook his head. “Completely different issue.”

Tony raised his eyebrows. “We’ll see.”

 **Trading Off**

Dinner over, they said their good-byes to Abby and Cindy and walked back to the car. They got in and buckled up, and Jethro turned to Tony. “Where do you want to spend the night?”

Tony thought it over for a moment. “Makes sense to go back to your place, doesn’t it? We can start on my cabinet tomorrow, and we still have to put those pictures up.”

Jethro nodded and started the car. “You got room at your place for me to leave a few things? Drawer and closet space?”

Tony grinned at him. “I’ll make room.”

Jethro nodded. “We’ll go to your place tomorrow afternoon, then. Watch a movie or something.” He pulled out of the parking spot to the accompanying sound of car horns.

Tony thought that he was getting way too used to Jethro’s driving – he hadn’t flinched at all. He considered Jethro’s profile for a moment, then spoke up. “You know, Jeth, you don’t have to try so hard.”

Jethro glanced over at him, but didn’t say anything. Tony thought maybe he needed to clarify. “I mean, it’s just that you’re being so un-Gibbs-like.”

Jethro shrugged. “Not gonna make the same mistakes I did before, Tony.”

Tony nodded. “Okay, I see that. Just… I don’t want you to be anyone other than yourself, okay?”

Jethro nodded, but was silent the rest of the way home. Tony would have been worried, but it was a comfortable silence, so he decided things were okay. They eventually pulled into the driveway; Jethro shut off the car but made no move to get out. Tony unbuckled his seat belt and turned to face him, waiting.

Jethro’s hands fidgeted uncharacteristically. He sighed. “I’m not really not being myself, Tony… I worked at it with Shannon, and we were fine. I didn’t try very hard with my ex-wives, and you know what happened there. Being with you… it kind of feels like it was with her. Makes me want to do the work.” He looked at Tony seriously. “Doesn’t even feel like work… the stuff I want to do, being conscious of how and where we’re spending our time – it just feels natural.”

Tony smiled and reached out to grasp Jethro’s hand. “Okay then.” They sat there for a second, neither one of them really comfortable yet with the deep, meaningful conversations. Tony looked toward the house. “Um… Jeth?”

“Yeah?”

“Shannon ever talk to you anywhere except in the basement?”

“No. Why?”

“Just… wondering if she’s gonna be… um, never mind.”

Jethro stared at Tony, then laughed. “Shannon was always a stickler for respecting people’s privacy, Tony. I can promise you she won’t be in the bedroom with us.”

Tony shot him an embarrassed grin. “Well, I had to ask. You didn’t hear her talking when you came down to the basement?”

Jethro shook his head. “I only heard your voice, not hers. Took me a minute to realize you were having a conversation, not just talking to her picture.”

“It doesn’t bother you? That she talked to me, I mean? Did she ever talk to your exes?”

Jethro rubbed his thumb over the back of Tony’s hand. “As far as I know, you’re the only one besides me that she’s talked to. And it doesn’t happen all the time, or even most of the time when I’m down there. Seems more frequent lately… I don’t know why. I haven’t asked.”

Tony’s native curiosity was taking hold. “Think she’d explain it if we did ask?”

Jethro shrugged. “Maybe? It was always enough for me that she was there.”

“Yeah, but now that you know she’s really there and not just in your head…”

Jethro thought about it. “So maybe I’ll ask. Or you’ll ask.” He turned toward Tony. “That wasn’t exactly what I had planned for tonight, you know.”

Tony’s answer was to let go of Jethro’s hand, open the door and get out of the car, leaning in to say “so what are you waiting for?” just before he closed the door and set off for the house. Jethro grinned and went after him.

Tony went upstairs while Jethro locked up and did a quick turn through the house downstairs. Jethro came into the bedroom just as Tony walked out of the bathroom, still dressed but barefoot. He grabbed Jethro around the waist and leaned in to kiss him, nipping at his lips. He pulled back quickly. “Hurry up,” he said, pushing Jethro toward the bathroom. Jethro laughed softly as he closed the door behind him.

By the time Jethro came out of the bathroom, wearing only his boxers, Tony had stripped off all his clothes and pulled the sheets down to the foot of the bed. He was sitting up, his back against pillows propped up against the headboard. Jethro smiled and removed the boxers before climbing up on the bed to sit facing Tony. He reached out to rest his palm on the side of Tony’s face and leaned in to give him a gentle kiss on the lips. He moved his mouth to Tony’s ear before Tony could return the kiss and spoke softly. “So what did you say to Abby that got her all worked up?”

Tony started and pulled back, looking at Jethro nervously. “That’s lousy foreplay, Jeth,” he complained.

Jethro gave him a wicked smile. “I know. So tell me and we’ll get to the good stuff.”

Tony squirmed. “It was just a joke, a pun, you know, on something she said. No big deal.”

“Ha. If that were true, you wouldn’t have any trouble sharing.”

Tony glared at him. “Can’t you just drop it?”

“Nope.”

Tony reached out toward Jethro’s groin, intending to distract him, and got his hand batted away. Jethro just looked at him patiently. Tony sighed. “Okay, fine. She said you building me the cabinet must mean I’m in, and I said not yet.” He stared at Jethro and waited. Jethro stared back, faintly puzzled, then suddenly his gaze sharpened on Tony, eyes widening. Jethro tried not to laugh and failed, shaking his head. He stared at Tony for a moment, then his expression changed. Tony had all of maybe half a second to let an alarmed noise escape his lips before Jethro pounced, tackling him and tickling mercilessly. Tony ended up pinned underneath Jethro, laughing and gasping for breath, while Jethro stared down at him. “And you were the one worried about privacy just now?” Jethro commented.

Tony got his breathing under control and gave Jethro a sheepish grin. “Um, sorry?”

Jethro shook his head, then leaned in and bit Tony’s neck, a little harder than usual. Tony yelped, and reached up to grab Jethro’s hair, pulling his head back. Jethro gasped, and then Tony was on him, rolling him over and pinning him down, his lips on Jethro’s, his tongue in Jethro’s mouth. Tony let go of Jethro’s hair to grab his wrists and pin them to the bed, moving to bite at his neck, then up to nip his earlobe. Jethro’s breath caught and his hips arched up involuntarily, his hardening cock brushing against Tony’s, causing Tony’s breath to catch in turn. Their eyes met; Jethro let his arms relax back into the mattress and Tony took his cue. He started on an all out assault on Jethro’s neck and face, grinding and thrusting his hips into Jethro’s at the same time. He squeezed Jethro’s wrists in a signal to leave them there, then let go to move his hands down, one tangling fingers in Jethro’s hair, pulling his head back to get easier access to his neck, the other moving down along Jethro’s side to slip underneath his ass, grabbing and pulling Jethro against him. Tony gasped at the feel of their erections pushed together; Jethro groaned and grabbed at the headboard, needing something to hold on to so he could keep his hands off of Tony.

Tony felt like he was on fire. He bit down on one pointed nipple, causing Jethro to gasp and buck beneath him. Tony groaned and pressed hard along the length of Jethro’s body, holding him down while Jethro writhed in response. “God, Jeth! Gonna be quick –“

Jethro moaned in response, thrusting up hard, causing Tony’s breath to catch and bringing him within reach of Jethro’s lips and teeth, which began their own assault on Tony’s neck. Tony began to move his hips in a circular pattern, spreading precome over both their cocks. He kissed Jethro possessively. “If – if I’m yours… then – you’re… mine!” he gasped out. Jethro nodded frantically, his head dropping back as Tony changed the angle of his thrusts and sped up. “Yours, Tony… oh, yeah – right there…”

Tony moved his hands up Jethro’s arms to his wrists, managing to get him to let go of the headboard and lacing their fingers together. He kept their arms up over their heads, and leaned in to Jethro’s mouth again, giving him an open-mouthed kiss which had them sharing panted breaths. Shifting his legs to get maximum leverage, he began thrusting against Jethro in earnest, moving their cocks against each other, getting faster and faster. He was moaning in Jethro’s mouth now, incapable of forming words, and Jethro was as loud as Tony had heard him yet, grunting and moaning, getting louder as he got closer to climax. Tony began to lose his rhythm; he felt his orgasm coming on and dropped his head to press his face into Jethro’s neck, trying to hang on and get Jethro there first. He felt the body underneath him stiffen, then Jethro tilted his head against the mattress and he cried out as he came. Tony let go of his control and thrust hard twice more before groaning loudly and finding his own release, his back arching up as he kept his face and groin pressed against Jethro. He collapsed on him a moment later, and they both lay there, breathing heavily.

After a few minutes spent getting his brain back online, Tony rolled off Jethro, letting go of his hands. Jethro didn’t move, his eyes still closed, a faint smile on his lips. Tony chuckled and leaned in to brush a light kiss over those lips, causing Jethro to open his eyes and turn his head to look at him. Tony gazed back and grinned. “That was great. Wasn’t exactly what I’d planned, but… wow.”

Jethro laughed. “I’d say you earned your way out of those head slaps just now.”

Tony’s smile widened. “Clean slate?”

Jethro nodded, stretching a little as he sat up to grab some tissues and start cleaning them both off. “Yeah.” Mission accomplished, he tossed the tissues over the side of the bed, then leaned over to grab the sheets and pull them up, turning off the one bedside lamp that was still on while he was at it. A bit of readjusting, and Tony’s head lay against Jethro’s chest, his arm around Jethro’s waist, while Jethro had one arm around Tony’s shoulders and his other hand was gently stroking Tony’s arm. He pressed a kiss to Tony’s head. “I love you, Tony.”

“Love you too, Jeth. Sleep?”

“Yeah.”

They were quiet for a moment, then Jethro spoke softly. “Still not in yet, huh, Tony?”

Tony laughed and tightened his arm, nuzzling into Jethro’s chest before falling asleep.


	25. Wood And Words

**Morning Coffee**

“Tony… hey… c’mon, Tone… time to get up…”

Tony swam up to consciousness – barely. He heard the soft voice calling him, but he really wanted to ignore it. He was comfortable; he felt boneless in that way he got after a really great night’s sleep. He snuggled down under the sheets, turning his face into the pillow a bit.

The scent of fresh coffee made him perk up just a bit. He could feel the steam on his face, so he knew Jethro had to be holding it right near him. _Nope. Not gonna be that easy._ He mumbled something incoherent and pulled the sheet up over his face. There was a faint sound as he supposed Jethro put the coffee cup on the nightstand. There was no other follow up, no sense that there was anything in his personal space. He settled down and let the quiet lull him into drifting off again.

“DiNozzo! Up and at ‘em!”

Tony threw himself upright, responding instinctively to the loud, growled command. “On it, Boss!”

He looked around alertly, and saw Jethro standing at the foot of the bed, smirking at him. Tony scowled. “That’s cheating!” he complained.

Jethro shrugged and had a sip of his coffee. “Worked.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. Jethro nodded his head toward the nightstand. Tony glanced over at the coffee waiting for him, then pouted. Jethro raised his eyebrows. Tony sighed, then reached out to grab the coffee. He looked at it suspiciously. “Is this your style or mine?”

“Try it and see.”

Tony raised the cup to his mouth, and just before taking a sip shut his eyes and screwed up his face. He took a tiny sip, registering Jethro’s snort of amusement, then lowered the cup. He held the coffee in his mouth for a moment, swishing it around, before swallowing and looking at Jethro with a big smile. “Thanks.”

Jethro inclined his head in acknowledgment, then moved over to the dresser, setting down his mug. He reached into the basket sitting on the chair nearby, and started tossing rolled up socks into a drawer. Tony stared. “When did you do laundry?”

“When I got up a couple of hours ago.”

“Why the heck did you get up at –“ Tony glanced at the clock next to the bed “-uh… ” His voice trailed off weakly as he realized it was nearly ten.

Jethro looked at him expressionlessly, then lobbed a pair of rolled up socks at his head. They bounced off. “I tried to wake you around 6, but you were really out of it. I got bored after a while.”

Tony grinned. “I’m impressed that you stayed in bed for what… an hour or more?”

Jethro shot him a slight smile. “I was being optimistic.”

Tony’s expression turned sheepish. “Sorry about that.”

Jethro shrugged. “I’ll take a rain check.”

Tony leered at him. “Could cash it in now.”

Jethro shook his head. “Nah, got things to do today. I want to go to a woodworking shop out in Springfield. They’re having a cabinet making demo this weekend, and there’s some handcrafted cabinets on display. Thought you could get some ideas about what you want yours to be like. There’s also a few tools I’ll need, and that’s the only place around here that carries ‘em.”

Tony frowned. “How come you didn’t mention this yesterday?”

Jethro looked at him impatiently. “I didn’t know about it yesterday. I called a few minutes ago to see if they had what I needed in stock, and Harry told me about the display.”

“Right.” Tony nodded. “Harry.”

Jethro threw another pair of socks; this time Tony caught them. “Just go get ready. You can have a bagel in the car.”

Tony tossed the socks back to Jethro, then climbed out of bed. He took advantage of his lack of clothing and stretched, arms straight out overhead, arching his back a bit. Relaxing, he looked over at Jethro, who was staring at him with an appreciative look on his face. He grinned when Jethro’s eyes moved back up to his face. Jethro grinned back. “Nice try. Go shower.”

Tony’s face fell. He walked past Jethro, muttering quietly. “Way to trash my ego, Jeth.” He’d almost reached the bathroom door when he was grabbed from behind, hands on his shoulders forcibly turning him around. Jethro backed him into the wall, then moved to press his body to Tony’s. One hand moved up from Tony’s shoulder to grip his hair just shy of painfully, while the other grabbed Tony’s right hand and moved it down, pushing it against Jethro’s groin. Tony could easily feel the hard ridge of flesh through the fabric of Jethro’s jeans. Jethro’s eyes met his. “Feel that?”

Tony nodded.

“ _That_ ,” Jethro said, “should help your ego.” He closed his eyes and leaned in, kissing Tony gently, at odds with the way he was gripping Tony’s hair and hand. He pulled back and looked Tony in the eye again. “God, I want you.” He let go of Tony’s hand and lightened his grip on his hair. “This is about more than just sex. You know that, I know that… but I want to live it, too.” He moved his hand away and stepped back.

Tony looked at him for a moment, then moved forward, lifting his own hands to cup Jethro’s face, leaning in and returning the kiss, taking it just a little bit further, running his tongue along Jethro’s lips, getting a small sound of pleasure from him. He moved back, dropping his hands, and waited until he saw Jethro glance down at his groin. Tony grinned when Jethro reflexively licked his lips. “Okay. I get that. Just so you know,” he gestured toward his own erection, “I feel the same.” He turned and walked into the bathroom, starting to close the door, then stopped and poked his head around the door’s edge. “And I want an everything bagel. With honey nut cream cheese. And chives.” He grinned at Jethro’s eye roll, then shut the door.

 **More Shopping**

It hadn’t taken as long to get to Woodcraft in Springfield as Tony had expected, but seeing as how Jethro was the one driving, Tony really should have known better. Tony looked around curiously as they walked in; he’d never been in a shop like this before. He trailed after Jethro, who moved purposefully to the small group of men and a few women who were gathered around a workbench in a cleared area of the store, watching a man demonstrating something with a partially put together cabinet. Jethro moved in close enough to see what was happening, while Tony hung back to watch him. He wanted to learn from Jethro, not from a stranger, so he didn’t pay any attention to what was going on. He saw a couple of women wandering around the store with slightly bored expressions, and he guessed correctly that they had accompanied some of the men who were engrossed in the demo.

Tony looked back toward the group to see Jethro walking back his way. “They’re doing some pretty basic stuff,” Jethro said. “We could go over there – “nodding his head in the direction of another large, cleared space in the building “- unless you want to watch?”

Tony shook his head. “I want you to teach me.”

Jethro smiled at him, then turned toward the other side of the store, Tony following behind. There were cabinets of all shapes and sizes set out in neat rows, each with a sign indicating the type of wood and tools used and the name of the builder. Jethro started wandering through them, while Tony stopped to look at each one, trying to decide what he liked.

There was one other person wandering around and looking at the cabinets, a woman Tony automatically placed in her late twenties or early thirties. She gave Tony a brief smile when she ended up on the other side of the cabinet he was looking at. He noticed her ring, then smiled at her. “Husband over there?” he asked, gesturing back toward the class.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah. But it’s my fault… I got him his first woodworking tool set.”

He grinned at her, then looked around at the cabinets. “Gonna make him make you one?”

She looked around at the cabinet, then back at Tony and shot him a slightly wicked smile. “Of course. I’m trying to decide on which one looks to be the most difficult to do.”

Tony laughed and started to say something else; she glanced over his shoulder, and he turned to see Jethro walking over. “Tony, come see this one. I think you’ll like it.” Jethro reached out and grasped Tony’s hand, interlacing their fingers and squeezing gently. The enthusiasm on his face was endearing, but Tony was more charmed by the fact that Jethro had taken his hand, in public, and didn’t even seem to realize it. He glanced back at the woman, whose eyes were wide and whose mouth was slightly open in surprise. Tony opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t think of anything; he settled for giving her a sheepish grin and a slight, helpless shrug. Her expression transformed to a smirk; she glanced at Jethro and gave Tony a thumbs up before turning to look at a cabinet.

“C’mon, Tony,” Jethro said, tugging slightly, sounding equal parts eager and impatient.

Laughing quietly, Tony tugged back. “Jeth!”

Jethro turned to look at him. “What?”

Tony stared at him for a second, then down at their joined hands. Jethro looked back, puzzled, then down; his own eyes widened in realization, his face turned red, and he hastily disentangled their fingers. Tony grinned widely. “You must _really_ like me!”

Jethro’s face turned even redder, and he looked away, glanced at the woman who was looking back at them and smiling, then mumbled something unintelligible. He whirled around and stalked back the way he’d come, Tony following with a huge grin on his face.

They reached the cabinet in question; Jethro seemed to have recovered his composure, and Tony decided not to tease him any more… not yet, anyway. Jethro gestured at the cabinet, asking Tony what he thought of the inlaid design of the cabinet doors. Tony considered it and decided he really did like it. “Can you do that?” he asked.

Jethro shot him a look. “I can build an entire boat, DiNozzo… I think I can do some inlay on a cabinet door.”

Tony shot Jethro a look right back. “In that case, I want doors like that. But you have to do an original design.”

Jethro gave him a curt nod, then set off for another part of the store that held stacks of various types of wood. Tony stayed where he was, watching him walk away. _I guess he’s a little pissed off._ He sighed, then started to wander around, looking at some of the elegantly crafted door handles. He stopped in front of one cabinet that had sturdy-looking handles that tapered to delicate scrollwork on each end.

“DiNozzo!”

Tony’s head shot up, and he saw Jethro standing by some of the darker wood, looking impatient. He sighed, then moved in Jethro’s direction, breaking into a slow jog. “On your six, Boss,” he said as he drew closer. Jethro shot him a surprised look. Tony just looked back. Jethro glanced back in the direction of the cabinets, then sighed, looking back at Tony and nodding. He made a visible effort to relax the tension out of his shoulders. “What sort of wood do you like for the inlay, Tony?”

Tony smiled at him, then looked around. “Can you make handles that match the inlay? And does that make a difference for the type of wood we pick?”

Jethro thought about that, then directed Tony over to some of the walnut that Tony had liked so much, but that they’d decided against because the dust would be bad for Tony’s lungs. “We could use walnut, and a lighter stain then we were thinking for the rest of it. You just couldn’t be there for the cutting and sanding.”

Tony grimaced. “What if I wear a mask?”

Jethro hesitated.

“What if I wear a really _good_ mask? I could ask Brad, see what he thinks.”

Jethro gave in. “If your doctor says that’s okay, then fine.”

Tony mentioned the handles he’d liked, and they went back to look at them. Jethro said he could design something similar; they then gathered up the tools he’d wanted, as well as some of the walnut, paid for it all, and bundled it into the car. Through it all Jethro remained more relaxed, but Tony could tell he was a little distant.

After Tony got into the passenger seat and fastened his seat belt, he reached out to grab Jethro’s hand before the other man could start the car. “Hey,” he said, “I liked you taking my hand in the store. And it was fine. That woman didn’t have a problem with it, and it’s not like anyone else was there to notice.”

Jethro stared out the windshield, shaking his head. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Tony squeezed his hand. “Is that such a bad thing?”

Jethro kept looking stubbornly out the window. “You pointed out a couple of days ago that I was slipping up at work. What if I’d done that at the office, or at a crime scene?”

Tony stared at him, then laughed. “Do you really think that you, in work mode, at a crime scene, would lead me by the hand to where you wanted pictures taken? Or to show me some evidence?”

The corner of Jethro’s mouth twitched. “Well, no. I guess not.”

“I _know_ not. C’mon, Jeth.” Tony squeezed Jethro’s hand again, hoping to get him to look his way. An unpleasant thought crossed Tony’s mind when Jethro still wouldn’t look at him. He slowly let go of Jethro’s hand and looked out the window too. “I thought you were okay with us… but maybe you aren’t? Not when we’re alone, then I know it’s all good… but maybe when we’re out somewhere – maybe you’re ashamed?”

Jethro turned toward Tony, his expression a combination of surprise and a little anger. “Tony –“

Tony did some hasty verbal back-pedaling. “I don’t mean of me… I know you’re not ashamed of me personally, Jeth. I mean, this whole being with a man thing. You gotta admit, it’s a bit hinky if you really think about it.”

Jethro stared at Tony. “Tony. I’m certainly not ashamed of you, or of being with you. I don’t even think of you as a man, most of the time we’re together.”

Tony’s jaw dropped; he stared at Jethro. “Well, thanks a ton. What, I’m the woman in this relationship?”

Jethro stared back. The corners of his mouth twitched again, and then he broke down and started to laugh. Tony glared at him, then undid his seat belt and moved to open the car door. Jethro reached out and grabbed his arm.

“Tony! Look, I’m sorry… that came out wrong. Let me explain?”

The apology combined with the question was surprising enough that it distracted Tony from his budding anger, despite Jethro’s continuing chuckles. He sat back, grumbling. “This had better be good.”

Jethro reached out to touch Tony’s cheek, and Tony flinched away. That was enough to stop any remaining laughter. Jethro let his hand drop, and he looked at Tony seriously. “Tony, listen. I didn’t mean that I don’t think of you as a man, or that your masculinity is in any way in question. Do you doubt mine, now that we’re together?”

Tony shot Jethro a shocked look. “Of course not. You’re Gibbs. You’ll always be Gibbs. I’ve never met anyone more masculine than you.”

“Well, that works both ways. All I meant was that you’re _Tony_ , all the time. When I think about the fact that we’re together, I’m not always telling myself that you’re a man… it’s not relevant. I didn’t mean that I think of you as anything other than a man, I just meant that the fact that you’re a man isn’t important. The fact that you’re _you_ is.” Jethro raised his hand again, and hesitantly reached for Tony’s face. This time Tony didn’t flinch away. Jethro caressed Tony’s cheek for a moment. “Do you get that?”

Tony’s eyes searched Jethro’s face, and after a moment he relaxed. “Yeah, I guess I do.” He sighed and leaned in to Jethro’s continued caressing.

Jethro smiled at him. “We’re good?”

Tony nodded. “We’re good.” He smiled back, then moved away and grabbed his seat belt again. “Lunch?”

Jethro smiled and nodded. “Lunch.” He started up the car, pulled out of the spot without really looking first, then started for the exit from the parking lot, commenting on a good pizza place nearby. Once he pulled out of the lot and onto the main road, he reached for Tony’s hand, and they kept that connection until they reached the restaurant.

 **Dinner, No Movie**

Tony stretched out on the couch while he waited for Jethro to bring the steaks into the living room. They’d had a good day. By the time they’d gotten back to the house from Springfield, it had been mid-afternoon, and Jethro had rather guiltily asked if they could maybe watch a movie at Tony’s place some other time. He’d wanted to get everything organized and make some of the initial measurements and cuts for the cabinet. Tony didn’t have a problem with it; as far as he was concerned, it didn’t matter much to him where they were or what they were doing as long as they were together. He didn’t tell Jethro that; they’d been close enough to sappy in the car earlier. He just made Jethro promise that they would watch a movie together, soon.

Tony shifted over when Jethro came in with the food. Their beers were already sitting on the coffee table, and Tony had brought the utensils out earlier. Jethro set the plates on the table and sat next to Tony, legs touching. They picked up their beers and clicked the necks together. After his first sip, Tony dug into the steak, practically inhaling the first few pieces, then slowed down a bit so he could talk.

“Can you believe we didn’t get a case this weekend? Weird, huh?”

Jethro smiled. “Yeah… when was the last time we were on call and didn’t have to go in? Not that I’m complaining. It was nice to get started downstairs.”

Tony nodded. He’d gotten a lesson in choosing which piece of wood would go where, as well as measuring, cutting and sanding. He’d picked up on that pretty quickly, and before too long they’d managed to get most of the pieces that would frame the cabinet ready for the more intricate work of fitting it all together. They were planning to go back down so that Jethro could explain how the plans translated into working on the wood, and maybe they’d get a little more done before calling it a night. Tony hadn’t decided if he was going to stay over; he hadn’t brought work clothes with him, so he would have to go home at some point. He planned to wait and see if Jethro made any suggestions.

They ate quickly, and Tony cleaned up in the kitchen afterwards, while Jethro headed back downstairs. Once he finished up in the kitchen, Tony headed downstairs to join him. He paused about two thirds of the way down, looking into the empty space where the boat had been. He missed the boat. Maybe he could get Jethro to start another one they could build together. His thoughts wandered, and he suddenly flashed back to that dream again, physically jumping when it seemed he could see Paul Johnson standing there in the middle of the basement. He swore softly, shook himself, and descended the rest of the way.

Jethro glanced up when Tony reached him. “You okay?”

Tony nodded and attempted to deflect the question, gesturing toward the plans that Jethro had laid out on the work bench. “So what’s the next step?”

Surprisingly, it worked. Jethro taught Tony more of the basics over the next hour, and then they each sat down, Jethro perched on a sawhorse and Tony on a chair, sanding the cut edges of last two sections that were going to form the cabinet walls.

Jethro worked quietly for a few minutes, then glanced over at Tony. “You staying over tonight?”

Tony looked over at him. “I could. Gotta get up early if I do; didn’t bring the right clothes for tomorrow.”

Jethro nodded. He worked a bit more, then put down the sandpaper and ran his fingers over the wood, feeling for any rough spots. “You mind?”

Tony smiled. “Depends. You think my boss’ll be pissed if I’m a few minutes late?”

Jethro shrugged. “Nah. He can be pretty understanding.”

Tony tried to stop his snort of disbelief; he wasn’t successful. He looked over at Jethro, who continued to sand with a small smirk on his face.

After a few more minutes, Tony got up and brought his piece of wood over to Jethro to examine. Jethro found a small rough patch and sent Tony back to do more sanding. Tony changed the subject as he sat back down and picked up the sandpaper. “Think Vance’ll start pushing? I don’t buy the idea that he’ll really leave me alone for another week or more.”

Jethro turned his piece of wood over and started on the other cut side. “No, I think he’ll start giving you more to think about, under the guise of making sure you have enough information to make the right decision.”

“Which would be the decision he wants me to make.”

“Yeah.”

A pause with only the sound of sandpaper rubbing against wood.

“He’ll probably also try to guilt trip you about McGee. Don’t let him.”

Tony sighed at that one, but left it alone. He changed the subject. “You really think you need to interrogate Johnson some more tomorrow?” He kept sanding, but stopped when he realized Jethro wasn’t working anymore. Tony looked up to see Jethro staring off into space. “Jeth?”

Jethro shook his head, then looked back at Tony. He set the sandpaper down on the workbench and got up to pour himself a shot of bourbon. He held out the bottle toward Tony, raising his eyebrows in question. Tony shook his head. Jethro set the bottle back down, picked up the glass, and went back to his seat. “I’d rather not. I want to believe we have enough on him with the confessions he made, but I don’t want any holes his lawyer can wiggle him through. Was thinking I’d talk to Ducky in the morning, see if he has any advice with that forensic psych degree.”

Tony nodded unhappily. He didn’t want Jethro to go anywhere near Johnson, but he didn’t want the guy out on the street because they didn’t take the investigation far enough either. He watched Jethro as he picked up the sandpaper again and finished off his piece.

Jethro set the wood and the sandpaper down on the workbench and stood, stretching. “You got much more on that?”

Tony looked back down at the wood. “Yeah, some rough spots still on this side. Shouldn’t be too much longer.”

Jethro nodded and walked over to him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “So… you staying?”

Tony looked up and met Jethro’s eyes. He could clearly see that Jethro was hoping he would, and he really didn’t think he could say no now that he’d seen that. He hadn’t really wanted to, anyway. _Not like I didn’t get plenty of sleep last night._ “Yeah.”

Jethro smiled, one of those happy, warm smiles that made Tony want to do just about anything for him. Those smiles weren’t as rare as they used to be, but they still didn’t happen all that frequently. Tony felt Jethro’s hand squeeze his shoulder. “Come on up when you’re done. I’ll be in the bedroom.” Tony nodded and turned to watch Jethro go upstairs. He went back to sanding for a few minutes, then stopped and stared into the open space of the basement again. Memories of that dream crowded into his head once more. He started sanding with more vigor, but they wouldn’t leave him alone. He stopped, frustrated, and looked around the basement, then at the stairs. He listened for a moment but heard nothing. His mouth opened, then shut; he exhaled loudly, then gave himself a light head slap. Looking around again, he called out quietly, “Shannon?”

He waited for a few minutes, then tried again. “Shannon? Can you hear me?”

Nothing. He sighed, then laughed at himself a bit. He ran his fingers along the wood, found a tiny rough spot and sanded it smooth. He put the wood and paper on the bench, then stood, stretched, and turned toward the stairs.

 _Hi, Tony._

“Shannon?”

 _That would be me, yes._

“You really are a Gibbs,” he muttered.

He heard that same light giggle from their last conversation.

“Shannon, I just… I have a question for you.”

 _Okay._

“Did you send me that dream, the other night?”

There was a pause. _Tony, I have no idea what you’re talking about. What dream?_

“Oh. Ah, never mind. I just thought maybe you’d sent it to me.”

 _I wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to do that._

“Sorry.”

 _Don’t apologize. Was it… was it about Jethro?_

“Yeah.”

 _A bad dream?_

“Yeah.” Tony shifted uncomfortably. “Look, I’m sorry. It was just a dream. You were in it, and this was before I, uh, met you… well, kinda met, anyway… so after you talked to me, I thought maybe…”

 _Was Jethro hurt?_ Shannon sounded worried.

“No, just… I couldn’t find him, and I came here, and you were here and said that I had to find him before it was too late.”

 _Oh. Well, I have no idea why you would dream that. Do you?_

“Um… maybe? We’ve been dealing with this really creepy guy, and he’s kind of fixated on Jethro, and not in a good way. But he’s locked up now. So it’s probably nothing, just my subconscious messing with my head.”

 _I’m glad he can’t do any harm. Hey, Tony?_

“Yeah?”

 _I’m here if you need to talk again… as much as I can be, at least._

“Thanks, Shannon. You know, I think Jethro was really lucky to have you in his life.”

 _Ooh, make sure you tell him that!_

Tony smiled. “I’m sure he knows.”

The sound of laughter again, then silence, and the sense of her presence was gone.

 **Another First**

Tony went upstairs and found Jethro in the bedroom, dressed only in a shirt and boxers. He was holding a hammer and had just stepped back from the wall to the right of the bed, where he’d put up the two pictures Abby had taken. He looked up and smiled at Tony as he walked into the room. “What do you think?”

Tony walked over and stood next to Jethro. “Nice. The guy with the silver hair is particularly hot.”

“Ya think?”

“Yeah.”

Jethro shot him a grin and turned to leave the room, intending to put the hammer away. Tony contemplated the pictures for a few moments, remembering the dinner that had followed the scene they depicted. _Seems like it was months ago, not just a few days. A lot’s happened since then._ He turned and went into the bathroom.

When he came back out, having removed everything except his shirt and boxers, it was to see Jethro sprawled out on the bed, leaning back against the head board, naked. The look he was giving Tony was intense. Tony stared back, then pulled off his own shirt and boxers, dropped them on the floor, and crawled up onto the bed, stretching out next to Jethro but not touching him.

They looked at each other for a long moment, then Jethro turned onto his side, facing Tony, and reached out to cup on hand behind Tony’s head, pulling him in for a long, slow kiss. Tony’s hands slid up to Jethro’s waist, and he stroked his thumb over smooth skin while his lips and tongue met with and slid against Jethro’s. A small sound of pleasure escaped Jethro’s mouth; he moved from his side to his stomach, pinning Tony down, one hand reaching up to tangle fingers in Tony’s hair, his kisses becoming more urgent.

Tony draped his leg over Jethro’s, pulling the other man more firmly against him. His hand moved from Jethro’s waist to his back, caressing steadily. The other hand went up to Jethro’s hair, which was long enough in places for Tony to get a grip on it; he did so and tugged firmly, pulling Jethro’s head back and lifting his own to nip and lick at Jethro’s neck. The soft moan and whispered “yeah” he got from his lover encouraged him, and he moved his legs to get enough leverage to push against the mattress and turn Jethro on to his back. He continued the assault on Jethro’s neck, sometimes moving down to his chest or up to his mouth, keeping his grip on Jethro’s hair so he couldn’t do much to reciprocate. Jethro’s hands moved over Tony’s back and ass, gripping and stroking; after a few minutes, Jethro was writhing under Tony, trying to get more firm contact to his groin.

Tony pulled back, breathing hard, intending to ask Jethro what he wanted, when Jethro shoved Tony back over on to his side. He gave Tony a lingering kiss, then moved to look Tony in the eye. “I want you in me,” he said.

Tony froze. He hadn’t expected that. He knew Jethro had almost no experience with being on the receiving end of penetration, just what little they had done together already. Tony hadn’t even thought much about it, beyond a vague hope that Jethro meant it when he’d said he was willing to try it with Tony.

Tony reached up to touch Jethro’s face. “Is this just because of what we were talking about in the car? ‘Cause I’d rather not if you’re offering ‘cause you think my ego needs it. Which it doesn’t.”

Jethro shook his head and gently caressed Tony’s ass and the back of his thigh. “You seemed to really enjoy it the other night. I want to try it. Maybe I’m offering a little sooner because of what I said this morning, but I’ve been thinking about it.”

Tony gave him a skeptical look. “Really?”

Jethro pinched Tony’s ass, making him jump a little. “Have I ever lied to you, Tony?”

Tony thought about that. “No. Withheld info, yeah. You holding back now?”

Jethro gave Tony an exasperated look. “Only about the fact that I’m a little apprehensive about it. But I want to anyway.”

Tony looked seriously into Jethro’s eyes. “Give me a safe word.”

Jethro looked surprised. “Tony, I trust you.”

Tony shook his head. “I know that. It’s not about trust, it’s about this being new for you and you not really knowing how much you can take. I think your offer has more to do with earlier today than you think it does. So safe word or we do something else.”

Jethro tried again. “Tony…”

Tony sighed. “You can’t use my name as a safe word, Jethro. You might say it in a different context.” Then he grinned.

The head slap came swiftly, and didn’t diminish Tony’s smile in the least. “Ooh, kinky, Jeth.” Then his expression turned serious. “I mean it. Safe word.”

Jethro sighed. “Coffee.”

Tony laughed. “How did I not anticipate that one?” he muttered, leaning in to reward Jethro with a light kiss before shaking his head. “You really want that word to take on a whole new meaning at work?”

Jethro opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. “Maybe not,” he conceded. He looked at Tony. “Is it always this difficult?”

Tony grinned. “Only with you.”

“Smart ass.”

“That could be a good one.”

Jethro stuck his tongue out at Tony. “I might want to use that one at work too.”

Tony sighed. He ran fingers through Jethro’s hair. “How about a word McGee would use, you know, something he says when he’s trying to explain that computer voodoo stuff he does? No danger of you ever using one of those.”

Jethro nodded. “Sounds good.”

Tony waited. Jethro just looked at him. “Uh… word, Jeth?”

Jethro’s expression turned sly. “You think I know any of those words, Tony?”

Tony laughed. “Point taken. Okay, how about… um… how about binary? You ever gonna use that in casual conversation?”

“Doubt it. Binary it is then.”

Tony rolled Jethro over onto his back, moving to his hands and knees. He stared down at the older man. “I need you to very seriously promise me that you’ll use it if you need to. If you don’t enjoy this, I don’t want to do it. So no just going through with it ‘cause you’re a Marine. You promise?”

Jethro gazed back up at Tony. He nodded once. “I promise, Tony.”

Tony searched his eyes again, then smiled. He leaned down and kissed Jethro’s lips quickly, then moved away toward the nightstand, digging through the drawer for lube and a condom. Jethro turned his head to watch. Tony glanced over at him, then rummaged through the drawer a bit more, coming up with a small bottle of massage oil. He grinned, then left the condom and lube on the table and shifted around to kneel on the bed. “We’ll take it slow, get back in the mood. Turn over on your stomach… here, wait a sec.” Tony grabbed one of the pillows and positioned it under Jethro’s waist. “This’ll make it easier.”

Jethro grunted as he moved into place, feeling slightly silly. “So much for spontaneity,” he commented, as he reached down to adjust his cock to a more comfortable position.

Tony snorted. “Gonna be careful with you, Jeth. If I’m not, you won’t want to do this again, and believe me, I’m gonna make it so good for you that you will be begging for it.”

Jethro turned and shot Tony an incredulous look.

“Well, okay. It’ll be so good that you won’t mind doing it again.”

Jethro moved his head back to rest on a pillow, huffing out a breath. He shivered a bit when Tony ran his fingers lightly across his back. There was a pause, then Tony moved to straddle Jethro, sitting on his thighs, and Jethro could hear his hands rubbing together. Then Tony’s hands were on Jethro’s shoulder, slick with oil, and Jethro relaxed into the pillows as Tony started massaging in earnest.

It wasn’t really sexual, if he ignored the part about being naked. Tony worked on his shoulders, neck, and back for a while, getting the muscles to give, releasing tension. He moved down to do the same to Jethro’s buttocks, legs, and feet. Jethro felt himself become more and more boneless, and whatever apprehension he might still be feeling disappeared, smoothed away by Tony’s very talented hands. He felt extremely content and pretty much ready for anything.

Tony must have sensed when the last of Jethro’s concerns vanished, because the movement and intent of his hands changed. They were on Jethro’s lower legs when it happened. The pressure lightened, the touch skimmed over the muscles, and Tony moved his legs so they were pressed more firmly against Jethro’s. His hands moved up to Jethro’s ass, rubbing slowly over the flesh, giving him a slower and much more intimate massage, before moving up Jethro’s spine to his neck and the back of his head. Jethro felt Tony shift around until he was lying on Jethro, covering him but keeping much of his weight on his legs and lower arms.

Tony pressed a kiss to Jethro’s neck, then his cheek, then contorted himself enough to reach Jethro’s lips. He ran his tongue over them, then shifted back to Jethro’s ear. “Give me your safe word, Jeth.”

Jethro was silent for a moment, then he spoke. “Binary,” he said quietly, his voice carrying some confusion with it.

Tony smiled and licked Jethro’s ear. “Good. Just making sure you remembered. You need it, you use it.”

Jethro nodded.

Tony stretched his arms up over his head, running his hands along Jethro’s arms, caressing and massaging Jethro’s hands and fingers for a moment, then shifted his lower body so his cock was up against the cleft between Jethro’s ass cheeks. He let his weight rest on Jethro body for a moment, pressing against him. He kissed Jethro’s temple, then whispered in his ear. “I love you, Jethro.”

Jethro shuddered and sighed. Tony’s hands slid back down Jethro’s arms; he raised himself up and reached over for the condom and lube, leaving the condom packet on the bed while he opened up the lube put a decent amount on the fingers of his right hand. He tapped Jethro’s waist with his left hand. “Shift up for a sec.”

Jethro raised his hips, and Tony shifted over onto his left side a bit, moving his left arm underneath to palm Jethro’s cock. Jethro pressed down into Tony’s grip, moaning softly at the contact. Tony pressed a kiss to Jethro’s back, the moved his right hand to Jethro’s ass. He ran his palm over the firm muscle, then moved his fingers into the cleft, sliding them along the skin there. Jethro made another sound and pressed his cock down into Tony’s hand again. Tony gave it a slight squeeze, moving his fingertips over the tight ring of Jethro’s anus as the same time. Jethro gasped and twitched a bit. Tony slid his index finger along the puckered ridge, then slipped it in, using a circular motion to press outward, just a little, against the walls of the passage. Jethro’s breathing came a little faster, and he started jerking his hips a bit, alternating rubbing his cock into Tony’s hand with pressing back against Tony’s finger, taking it in deeper.

Tony let Jethro set the pace for a bit, then positioned a second finger so that it pushed in when Jethro thrust back. He repeated the circular motion with both fingers, and started to move his hand in time with Jethro’s thrusts, his fingers moving deeper into his lover’s body. Jethro moaned again, shifting restlessly on the bed. Tony leaned in and spoke quietly. “That’s it, Jeth, that’s good, you’re doing great, so responsive… I think you’re going to love this, it’s gonna feel so good.”

Jethro grunted in response, moving his hips to grind his cock into Tony’s hand harder, then moving his hips back, encountering a third finger poised over his entrance. He gasped and shuddered when Tony inserted that finger as well. Jethro stretched his legs out, then moved his right leg off to the side, giving Tony a little more room. Tony’s fingers slid about halfway in, and he alternated circular motion with scissoring, stretching and relaxing Jethro’s muscles. He pulled the fingers almost all the way out, and moved them back in, almost as far as they could go, a little faster than he’d moved before, watching Jethro to gauge his reaction.

Jethro froze for a moment, holding his breath, then gasped and grunted, pressing back into Tony’s hand. “More, Tony. That’s good.”

Tony obliged, moving his fingers inside, pressing in, rubbing against the walls of the passage, until Jethro’s hips suddenly shot up off the bed, driving Tony’s fingers in the rest of the way, while Jethro let out a small shout of pleasure.

“Guess I found it, huh? God, Jeth, you’re incredible.” Tony moved his own hips closer to Jethro’s legs, swinging his right leg over Jethro’s left, pressing his very hard cock against Jethro’s thigh and moving against him for a moment, enjoying the friction. He squeezed Jethro’s erection and moaned when Jethro reflexively squeezed his fingers in return. Tony moved his fingers once the pressure let up a bit, starting to finger fuck Jethro in earnest, listening to the man’s moans of pleasure as he slowly jacked his cock as well. He kept it up, hitting Jethro’s prostate as often as he could, making Jethro writhe in pleasure and desperation. Finally he got what he’d been waiting for, as Jethro raised his head and turned to look back at Tony, his pupils dilated and his expression needy. “Tony, please…”

Tony gently pulled his fingers out, causing Jethro to moan at the loss of contact. He also carefully moved his hand out from under Jethro’s cock, grinning as Jethro moved his own hand down to his groin and started stroking himself. He reached out to rub Jethro’s back. “Slow down, love. We’re not done yet.” He leaned over the kiss Jethro’s mouth a little roughly, then sat back and hurriedly put on the condom, covering it with a generous amount of lube. He quickly wiped off his fingers, then his eyes met Jethro’s. “Ready?”

Jethro nodded, moving his hand away from his cock, shifting so he could brace himself on his arms. Tony moved back into position, spreading Jethro’s cheeks and positioning the head of his cock at the entrance. Jethro gasped at the feel and let his forehead hit the pillow. Tony set some of his weight on his side, moving his hand under Jethro to grasp his shoulder, keeping the other hand on Jethro’s ass, kneading the muscle while he very slowly started to push the head of his cock past the muscular ring. Both men held their breath until the widest part of Tony’s head was in; Jethro then let his breath out with an explosive “Fuck, Tony!” while Tony moaned loudly as his cock continued to slide in. He’d done a good job of stretching the muscles and he was moving more easily than he’d anticipated. He moved off his side, centering his weight and moving his right arm to hold onto Jethro’s other shoulder. He cried out in surprise as Jethro suddenly moved back, taking Tony’s cock all the way in. Jethro cried out too, and Tony dropped his forehead onto Jethro’s shoulder blade. “Easy, Jeth, careful, please, don’t want to hurt you.”

Jethro shook his head. “Doesn’t – feels good. Want more.” His breath was coming in fast pants. He moved his hips forward to press his aching cock into the pillow, then back into Tony, fucking himself on Tony’s cock. Tony groaned.

“Jeth, please… tough – to stay in control.”

Jethro’s answer was to thrust again; this time Tony moved too, pushing into Jethro, hitting his prostate again and making the older man cry out in pleasure. Tony gripped Jethro’s shoulders harder, spread his legs a bit, and started to thrust into his lover with long, barely controlled strokes. He was grunting with each thrust in, and was managing to hit Jethro’s sweet spot fairly consistently.

Jethro was almost undone by the pleasure and the knowledge that Tony was inside him, fucking him, making him feel so good. He felt almost helpless, out of control, and suddenly he panicked. All sorts of emotions were swirling around inside him… love, fear, arousal, happiness, despair… he wanted it to stop, he didn’t want it to ever stop. Tears stung in his eyes, and he did the only thing he could think of to get back under control.

“Tony… Tony, please, wait… Tony, I – binary!”

Tony froze above him. “Oh, God, Jeth, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I – we shouldn’t have –“

He started to carefully pull out, but Jethro reached back and grabbed his ass, stopping him. “No, Tony, don’t… I… I just need a minute, but I don’t want you to stop, okay? Please. Just – just hold on for a minute.”

Tony stopped moving, uncertain of what to do. He stayed in place, his cock throbbing in Jethro’s ass. He moved one hand from under Jethro’s shoulder and started caressing Jethro’s hair, watching what he could see of Jethro’s face, trying to figure out what to do next. Jethro just lay there, breathing, his hips jerking involuntarily every so often.

Finally, Tony spoke, his voice quiet and a little scared. “Jeth… what do you want me to do? What’s wrong?”

Jethro twisted his head around enough to look at Tony, and Tony could see tear tracks on his face. “I’m sorry, Tony… it just… I was overwhelmed. Not the physical… feels amazing. Emotionally… I was losing control, wasn’t sure…”

Tony leaned in and kissed him softly. “Want to stop? I can. We can finish off another way.”

Jethro shook his head. “Pull out and I’ll give you the hardest head slap ever,” he growled.

Tony laughed weakly. “Okay.” He reached over and gently ran his fingers over Jethro’s face. “We could change positions,” he suggested quietly. “You could ride me, have more control.”

Jethro shook his head, giving Tony a half smile. “Wouldn’t make a difference. It’s all these feelings. Just needed a minute to sort them out. I think I’m okay now.”

Tony looked into Jethro’s eyes and saw only truth there. Jethro looked back at him, then raised an eyebrow. “Is there a reverse safe word?”

Tony laughed and kissed him soundly. He moved his arm down and under Jethro, grasping his cock, which was still hard. He leaned back and shifted his weight a little more onto his left arm, then slowly started to move his hand along Jethro’s shaft, rubbing his palm over the head, adding a slight twist. Jethro gasped and shuddered, letting his head fall back down and starting to thrust again. Tony held himself still and let Jethro control how deep the penetration went, then groaned when Jethro thrust back a little harder and clenched his muscles around Tony’s cock. “Move, Tony!”

Tony started thrusting again, and within a few minutes they were back to where they’d been before Jethro had used his word. Jethro was groaning almost constantly, his head down in the pillow, while Tony’s teeth were clenched as he tried not to come just yet. They were moving together, faster and faster, until finally Jethro’s hips snapped forward and his head flew up off the bed as he screamed out his release. Tony lost control, shoving as deep into Jethro as he could, grinding his hips against Jethro’s ass, crying out as he finally emptied himself into his lover.

The only sounds in the room were of rapid, gasping breaths as both men lay there, lacking the strength or the will to move. Their breathing eventually quieted, and Tony groaned as he slowly pulled out. He grabbed a tissue and removed the condom, wrapping it up to dispose of later, dropping it over the side of the bed. He reached out to Jethro, tugging on his shoulder until the older man rolled over and they lay there, tangled together.

“You okay?” Tony asked.

“Yeah. That was… it was incredible, Tony. I definitely want to do it again.”

Tony nodded. “Okay.” He gently stroked his hand over Jethro’s arm. “Only if you’re sure. You scared me there, Jeth.”

Jethro sighed. “I’m sure. I don’t think that will happen again.”

“How come?”

Jethro was quiet for a long time before he answered. “Only felt like that one other time. My first time with Shannon. Never happened again until tonight.”

Tony had no idea what to say to that. He tightened his grip on Jethro, burying his face in his neck. “Mine,” he said quietly, after a moment. Jethro hugged him back. “Yours,” he agreed. After a few more minutes of silence, Jethro spoke. “Mine,” he said. “Yours,” Tony replied.

They lay quietly like that for a long time, until they both fell asleep.


	26. Going On Offense

**Which Johnson?**

Tony had been a bundle of energy since he’d gotten up that morning, and his thoughts skittered around in his head as he rode the elevator up to the bullpen. _That was the most amazing sex of my life. I fucked Gibbs._ _I, Anthony DiNozzo, am in love with Leroy Jethro Second B For Bastard Gibbs. Gibbs is in love with_ me _, which has to be the eighth wonder of the world. Or is it ninth? How many wonders are there? I’ll ask McGee. He knows geek stuff like that. I have to look Gibbs in the eye today and pretend there’s nothing between us except Boss and St. Bernard. If Vance ever finds out, he’ll have me out of here so fast… crap. Why am I trying to freak myself out?_

Truth was, Tony wasn’t freaked out. He’d woken up a little later than he’d intended, mostly because they’d fallen asleep without remembering to set the alarm. He was only a little late, though. And Jethro had given him the most amazing kiss when Tony was leaving. Tony was sure it was one of those kisses that would have rated in the top five of all time if it had been in a movie.

Something had changed last night. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was, only that he felt secure in his relationship with Jethro in a way he hadn’t before. Actually, in a way he hadn’t ever before, with anybody. He didn’t think it could just be that he’d topped last night. _Maybe I’ll talk to Abby._

The elevator opened, and Tony moved quickly to his desk. He was in luck; Gibbs wasn’t there, so maybe he had a shot at getting focused. He practically tripped into his chair and looked around to make sure no one noticed. No such luck… Ziva smirked at him from her desk.

“You are late. Did you have a hot date last night, Tony?”

“Hot doesn’t begin to describe it, Zee-vah. It was beyond hot. It was the mother of all hot dates. It was… the Holy Grail of hotness.” Tony settled back into his chair after turning on his computer and grinned at Ziva, who looked a little perturbed.

“I am not entirely sure I want to know.”

“Really? It could be very educational.”

Ziva glanced over at Gibbs’ empty desk, then looked thoughtfully at Tony. She got up and walked over to his desk. “I am wondering, Tony, if the hotness that you speak of is in any way related to the fact that Gibbs is walking a little funny this morning.”

Tony’s jaw dropped and he stared at Ziva. She smirked at him and started to say something else when McGee walked in to the bullpen. Tony jumped up. “McGee! Thank God!”

McGee stared at him, confused.

“We have a mission, remember?” Tony asked. He turned to Ziva. “We are going to go get Johnson for you, milady.” He executed a bow, then straightened up and looked at her expectantly.

Ziva narrowed her eyes and looked at him as if he was doing something strange... which Tony supposed he was. A quick glance at McGee showed him that McGee appeared to think so too. McGee and Ziva traded glances, and then Ziva looked back at Tony and tilted her head. “Gibbs did not tell me he wanted me to continue the interrogation,” she said. “I would be surprised if he wanted me to use my particular expertise. I did not think NCIS generally approved of such methods. In fact, I think I am a little out of practice, but I do believe it will come back to me. My arm is feeling much better, so I should be able to perform adequately. It is like you say, get back up on the donkey, yes?” She looked at Tony, who was staring at her. She turned to McGee for help, but he had pretty much the same expression on his face.

Tony suddenly laughed. “Ah, I get it! No, Ziva, not the weird, Gibbs-obsessed freak with the car fixation. Although –“ he paused, and glanced over at McGee “ – that’s really not a bad idea. Could save on the paperwork.”

McGee nodded and raised his eyebrows at Tony, who grinned and looked back at Ziva, who was staring at him impatiently. The smile was immediately wiped from Tony’s face, and he gestured to McGee. “Come, Sidekick! To the Tony-mobile!” Tony swept grandly out of the bullpen and moved to the elevator, followed by McGee, who started complaining loudly. “Tony, we’ve had this conversation. I’m _not_ your sidekick!”

Ziva stood still and watched them leave. Tony was often silly, but this was a little different. The usual edge wasn’t there. Puzzled, she stood there staring after them, trying to work it out.

“Problem, Ziva?”

Ziva jumped, then whirled around, upset that she’d been taken by surprise. Gibbs stood behind her, taking a sip from his coffee, with an expression of mild inquiry on his face as he lowered the cup. “Gibbs! No, there is no problem. It is just… Tony, he is very… very high energy this morning.”

Gibbs continued to gaze at her impassively for a moment, then suddenly shot her a grin that made him look years younger. Ziva’s eyes widened in surprise. The grin vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and Gibbs moved to his desk. “Maybe he’s just happy this morning,” he commented as he sat down, a little carefully, Ziva noted, and started doing something at his computer. Ziva watched him a moment longer, seeing the hint of a smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. He glanced up at her, then again, sitting up and saying, “What?” She simply shook her head, smiling now, and moved back to her desk. She sat down and opened up the file sitting in front of her, then looked over at Gibbs again.

“Gibbs?”

He turned to look at her.

“I am very happy for you and Tony.” She smiled at him. His lips twitched, then he smiled back, a hint of happiness reaching his eyes for just a second. Then in was gone, and he was all business.

“Where did DiNozzo and McGee go?”

“They said they were going to get Johnson for me. I thought they meant that you wanted me to continue the interrogation, but Tony said it was not the –“ she raised her hands, although the injured arm didn’t go up as far as the other one, and mimed air quotes “- Gibbs-obsessed freak with the car fixation, so I assume they mean to find Larry Johnson and bring him here.”

Gibbs looked puzzled for a moment. “Larry Johnson in Legal?”

She inclined her head.

He nodded once. “Good. We can have him look over the interrogation video on Paul Johnson, see if we have enough to send him on.”

Ziva shifted in her chair. Gibbs quirked an eyebrow at her. “I do not think that is the only reason they are bringing him here.”

Gibbs studied her for a moment, then sat back in his chair. “You found out about ‘Tiva.’”

Ziva nodded.

Gibbs turned back to his computer and smiled. “Have fun,” he said quietly.

She stared at him, confused. She started to say something, but stopped when she heard the elevator ding and loud voices emerged onto the floor.

“C’mon, guys, it was just a joke! Tony, I know you’d never do anything like that, man, seriously. Gibbs has a rule about it, right? Everyone knows you’d never to anything to piss him off!”

Ziva didn’t recognize the voice. She heard McGee’s response, “You don’t really know Tony very well, do you?”

There were brief sounds of a struggle, then Ziva heard the stranger’s voice hiss. “Please, Tony, I’ve heard stories! I don’t want to die!”

The sound of Tony’s voice told her they were almost around the partition. “Yeah, well, I don’t want to have to deal with an angry ninja because you keep avoiding her! Just apologize, will you? I’m fairly certain she won’t kill you… it’s early in the week.”

Ziva closed her eyes, centering herself. She’d imagined getting her revenge for the ‘Tiva’ rumors, and now she had her chance. The bullpen wasn’t the ideal location, but she knew some very subtle moves that she hadn’t had an opportunity to practice for a while. They wouldn’t even leave visible marks. There was a noise directly in front of her, and she opened her eyes to see Tony and McGee, each with a firm grip on an arm belonging to… possibly the handsomest man she’d ever seen.

He was Tony’s height, with dark wavy hair and brown eyes. His face could easily grace the cover of one of those rugged men’s outdoor magazines. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, so she could clearly see that he worked out regularly. She stared at him. He stared back, then gave her a weak grin. “Um, hi.”

It only took Ziva a few seconds to find her voice. She was rather proud of that. “Hi.”

“Look, I’m really sorry about what I said, you know… before... about you and Tony.”

Ziva continued to stare at him. Tony and McGee relaxed their grips on his arms. He fidgeted nervously, then kept talking. “It’s just, well, Tony always gets the girls, right? And I know we’ve never met, you and me, I mean, but I’ve seen you around, um, from a distance, and maybe I was a little jealous.”

Tony looked at him and grinned. “Good one,” he said, nodding approvingly.

Ziva was vaguely aware of Gibbs sitting back in his chair. She glanced at him, and he grinned at her.

“You knew,” she said.

Gibbs nodded. “Yup.”

She looked at the other members of her team, who had now let go of their prisoner. “You all knew.”

Tony grinned at her. “Guilty as charged.” McGee just nodded and looked slightly nervous.

Ziva set her hands down firmly on her desk; Larry Johnson flinched at the sound. She stood up, and moved around to the front of her desk. Tony and McGee backed away, and Gibbs shifted forward in his seat. Ziva moved to stand in front of the man, and he swallowed nervously. She looked him over carefully, noting the absence of any rings in his fingers. She looked at Tony and raised an eyebrow. He looked back at her and grimaced, then turned to Larry. “You dating anyone, Larry?”

Larry turned to look at him. “What? Uh, no, not right now.”

Ziva cleared her throat and Larry turned back to her. “Are you going to hurt me?” There was a plaintive note in his voice.

Ziva’s eyes narrowed and she looked at him. “Would you like to go for a cup of coffee with me?”

He stared at her, then glanced at Tony, who rolled his eyes and nodded emphatically.

“Uh… yeah.” He gave her a nervous smile.

She turned to look at Gibbs, who shrugged. “Bring him back in one piece, Ziva. Need him to do some work on the Johnson case. You have half an hour.”

Ziva’s eyebrows rose. “You knew,” she said. “Forty five minutes.”

Gibbs’ lips twitched again, and he nodded. Ziva turned back to Larry, tucked her arm through his, and smiled at him. “You are buying, yes?”

Larry’s smile changed from nervous to tentative. “Absolutely.” They walked to the elevator.

“Tell me, Larry,” Ziva said, “do you know how to fight? I am thinking Tony and McGee found it too easy to bring you here. I could give you some lessons…” Her voice faded away as the elevator doors closed.

 **Campfire**

Tony and McGee grinned at each other and high-fived. Gibbs cleared his throat, and the two agents immediately turned to their desks and got busy. Gibbs glanced over at Tony, who was glancing over at him. Tony grinned, Gibbs winked, and then they all focused on work.

Ziva returned on time, a happy smile on her face.

Tony watched her as she moved back to her desk. “Get in some good moves on him, Ziva?”

She looked over at him and her smile widened. “Not yet. But I am meeting him at the gym after work, and we are going out to dinner afterwards.” She turned to Gibbs. “He is going to review the video of Paul Johnson’s interrogation, and will be back to consult with you as soon as he is done.”

Gibbs nodded, then looked up at the stairs leading to MTAC and the upstairs offices. The all glanced up to see Vance descending, carrying several files in his arms. Gibbs’ expression grew dark as he watched Vance come around the stairs and stop in front of Tony’s desk.

“Here you go, DiNozzo. Thought it might help to get to know the people you’d be working with if you take the job.” His voice was positively jovial. He held the files out to Tony, who was clearly uncomfortable but took them readily enough. McGee and Ziva both sat up straight and stared at Tony. McGee looked over at Gibbs, seeing how his jaw was clenched tight. Vance clapped Tony on the shoulder, then walked past Gibbs’ desk, stopping at McGee’s. “I’m offering DiNozzo a team lead, Agent McGee. If he chooses to take it, you’ll be Gibbs’ Senior Field Agent. I suggest you familiarize yourself with the job description and get up to speed, just in case. You know Gibbs will be expecting a seamless transition, and I have complete faith that you won’t let him, or me, down.” Vance turned and gave Gibbs a short nod, then headed back to the stairs.

Tony stared at the small stack of files, not wanting to look at any of his teammates. He really hadn’t expected Vance to go on the offensive so obviously. He could feel Ziva and McGee staring at him, and finally looked up at Gibbs, who was looking back at him. Gibbs glanced at the others, then shook his head once. He stood and looked at Tony. “Campfire, DiNozzo?”

Tony sighed, and nodded. “Here?”

Gibbs shrugged. “Nothing to hide. If we all disappear, Vance’ll get suspicious.” He grabbed his chair and pulled it in front of his desk. The others all stood and did the same, coming together into a huddle in the middle of the bullpen, McGee and Ziva exchanging shocked looks.

Tony sat, stared at the floor for a moment, then ran his hand through his hair and looked up at Ziva and then McGee. He glanced at Gibbs, who looked back silently; the hint of warmth in his eyes made Tony smile a little. He looked back at the others. “Okay, here’s the thing. Vance wants me off the team… no surprise there. He’s offered me a team lead in Seattle.” He fell silent, waiting to hear what they had to say.

Ziva looked concerned. “Tony, I know it is a good thing to be promoted, but I do not want you to leave. We are a family.”

Tony gave her a small smile and reached out to squeeze her hand. Just like that, whatever reservations he still might have had about their friendship after Rivkin’s death were gone. He looked at McGee, who was shaking his head. “While I’m flattered that Vance wants to promote me, I don’t want you going all the way across the country either.” McGee looked at Gibbs. “And the offer to be Senior Field Agent on your team didn’t come from you, Boss.”

Gibbs looked at McGee. “You think you’re ready?”

McGee glanced at Tony and Ziva and shifted a bit in his chair. “For some things, yeah. The stuff I’m good at… using the computers to find answers or to fight back.” He grinned a bit at Tony. “Got ya beat there, don’t I?”

Tony nodded good-naturedly. McGee looked back at Gibbs. “But I don’t have those intuitive leaps that Tony gets when computers aren’t involved. And Tony’s better at being in charge… I focus in on parts of a case, he keeps the whole team in mind. He gets the big picture. He also delegates better than I do... and he takes the leadership role naturally, steps in automatically if you’re busy. I don’t do that.” He straightened up in his chair. “So yeah, I want to be Senior Field Agent some day, but I’m not ready yet.” He looked back at Tony. “If you don’t take the promotion, I want you to start teaching me to one day take on your role. But honestly, I think it will be a long time from now… unless you actually want to go to Seattle?” He glanced from Tony to Gibbs and back.

Tony grinned at him. “Yeah, timing is everything, isn’t it? No, I don’t want to take the job. My place is here, my family –“ he nodded at Ziva “ – is here, and –“ he paused and looked at Gibbs. Gibbs looked back. After a few moments, Ziva and McGee were both fidgeting. Gibbs and Tony continued to stare at each other for several seconds, then both smiled.

Ziva cleared her throat. “I take it you have not told Vance about your decision?”

Tony tore his eyes away from Gibbs and looked at her. “No. He gave me two weeks to give him my final answer. I still have over a week to make up my mind.” He looked back at Gibbs. “Full disclosure?” he asked. Gibbs pursed his lips, then nodded. Tony smiled at him, then looked at the others. “Gibbs freaked when I told him about it.”

Gibbs sat up and frowned at Tony. “I did not _freak_ , DiNozzo.”

Tony laughed. “Oh, you freaked, alright.” He looked back at Ziva and McGee. “He was so ready to tear Vance a new one. Confronted him about it, and Vance said he wouldn’t force the transfer, but that Gibbs would owe him big if I don’t leave.”

Ziva’s brow furrowed, and she looked at Gibbs. “He will take it out on you, yes?”

Gibbs shrugged. “He’ll certainly try to make my life more difficult.”

McGee looked confused. “Why? It’s not like we don’t do a good job.”

Gibbs shook his head. “I don’t know, Tim. He seems to have an agenda, and I haven’t got the slightest idea what that is. He’s doing everything he can to get Tony to take the job, from acting like he’s Tony’s friend to trying a guilt trip on him about your promotion being contingent on him leaving. He’s definitely upped the ante by bringing it out into the open.”

Ziva turned to look at Gibbs. “I do not understand. How does his family figure in to this?”

Gibbs looked back at her, started to speak, then closed his mouth. All three men stared at Ziva. Then Tony barked out a laugh. “No way. You can’t tell me you never heard the term before.” Ziva gave him a blank look. “Not ‘auntie’ as in your dear old auntie living in Tel Aviv. Ante, as in betting, as in poker. I know for a fact you’ve played the game, Zee-vah… I was there.”

“Oh,” Ziva said, looking at Tony with a straight face… but there was a slight hint of a smile on her lips.

Gibbs rolled his eyes, reached out, and gave Ziva the lightest of head slaps. She laughed, and the rest of them followed suit; even Gibbs chuckled a bit. “So here’s the deal,” he said, once they all quieted down. “Tony’s planning on taking the full two weeks to supposedly make up his mind. I’m going to be doing some digging, see if I can find out why Vance is so eager to move him off the team. We’d like to keep it all as quiet as we can, at least for now.”

McGee glanced between the other two men, his expression worried. “You don’t think he’s figured it out about you guys, do you?” he asked, almost a whisper.

Gibbs and Tony looked at each other and slowly shook their heads. Tony turned to McGee. “Doubt it. He’d have handed me plane tickets out of here by now if he knew anything.”

McGee nodded. “So what do you want us to do?”

Tony looked at Gibbs, who shook his head. “Not much to do, really,” Gibbs said. “Unless…” He looked thoughtfully at McGee. “You might be able to find something out if you go to him, pretend like you need to talk over the possible promotion. Up to you, though. Could be risky.”

McGee nodded. “I’ll take the chance. I’ll think it over, come up with something… I’ll run it by you guys before I try it though.”

Gibbs nodded at McGee, his pride in his agent obvious. He gave the rest of the team a significant look, and the campfire broke up.

 **Interrogation Take Two**

Tony paced nervously in the observation room. Ziva watched him, growing increasingly annoyed. McGee just sighed and exchanged glances with Ducky. On the other side of the one-way mirror, in the interrogation room, Paul Johnson sat quietly, his pose exactly like it had been before the first session. The only difference was that this time he glanced every so often at the door, clearly anticipating someone walking in.

The door to Observation opened, and Gibbs walked in, file in hand. He moved to stand at the window, watching Johnson. Tony immediately moved to stand slightly to one side and behind him. Ducky watched Gibbs watch Johnson, then spoke quietly.

“Jethro, are you sure this is necessary?”

Gibbs sighed. “Legally, maybe. Larry Johnson watched the recordings of the previous session; this Johnson never asked for a lawyer, but never actually waived his rights. Even though technically we’re in the clear on that, it’s better if we can clarify the point. And if we can get him to speak to motive, our case will be a little stronger. ‘Art’ isn’t going to cover it.”

Ducky nodded, clearly unhappy with this turn of events. “Must it be you who questions him?”

Gibbs turned to look at Ducky, his expression inscrutable. “You agreed with me a few minutes ago that he probably won’t talk to Tony, not after what he said at the end of the last session. He doesn’t target women, and McGee’s not military, so he won’t likely talk to either him or Ziva. He’s almost eager to share things with me. I probably have the best chance to get the information we need.”

“Just be careful, Jethro.”

“Always, Duck.” Gibbs turned toward the door, only to find Tony standing in his way. They stared at each other, then Gibbs glanced over at the sound tech. Seeing that the man was busy with his board, he reached out quickly to squeeze Tony’s hand, then moved around him to leave the room. Tony stood still for a moment, then walked forward to stand where Gibbs had been, tense and staring at Johnson’s still form.

The door opened, and Gibbs walked through at his usual brisk pace. Johnson’s face lit up and he sat forward a bit as Gibbs sat down. Gibbs opened the file and started to flip through the contents, not looking at Johnson or saying anything to him. Johnson ducked his head a bit, trying to catch Gibbs’ eye. When that didn’t work, he started speaking.

“I was hoping you’d come back.”

Gibbs glanced up at him. “Yeah?”

Johnson nodded eagerly. “I wanted to see you again.”

In Observation, Tony growled low in his throat. Ziva laid a hand on his arm, and Ducky moved closer to him. “Easy, Anthony. He can’t do anything to Jethro here.”

Tony quieted and nodded curtly, but didn’t take his eyes off the scene in front of him.

Gibbs finished paging through the file, closed it, and sat back, looking at Johnson thoughtfully. Johnson smiled at him. They sat that way for a moment, then Johnson moved his hand in Gibbs’ direction. “I thought maybe I wasn’t remembering clearly, but I was. You really are perfect for my next work.”

“Because I’m military?” Gibbs asked the question very casually, with just a hint of curiosity.

Johnson nodded his head. “That’s part of it, of course.”

Gibbs returned the nod. “Yes, of course. You said last time we spoke that I have confidence and power… that what you need for your art?”

Johnson looked down at the table, almost shyly. His fingertips traced a pattern on the smooth surface. In Observation, McGee grimaced. “It almost looks like he’s flirting with Gibbs.”

Ducky nodded. “He is, in his own way. His interest in Jethro does have an element of attraction.”

Tony turned to stare at Ducky, who looked back evenly. “You cannot deny that you noticed it before, Anthony. It’s why you went running in there last time, isn’t it?”

Tony nodded, turning back to watch Gibbs. “Yeah, Ducky. I noticed.”

In Interrogation, Johnson looked up through his eyelashes at Gibbs. “Yes, that’s what I need. You understand so well.”

Gibbs cocked his head to one side. “You’re trying to get a message across to others, with your work. You want them to see that the military can be vulnerable.”

Johnson nodded. “Exactly! People need to see that they can fight back.”

On the other side of the glass, Ducky drew in a sharp breath. “That’s it, Jethro,” he murmured to himself. “Follow up on that.”

Gibbs looked at Johnson thoughtfully. “Someone hurt you. Someone military, and you didn’t think you could fight back at the time. So you’re doing it now.”

Johnson sat up, eyes wide, staring at Gibbs. He didn’t move for several seconds, then he nodded rapidly. “Yes. Yes, I’m fighting back now. Not just for myself… for everyone who has ever been or will ever be in my position.” His eyes were unfocused, looking past Gibbs, into the mirror. “Threats, intimidation, pain… that’s how I grew up, Agent Gibbs.” Johnson’s focus returned to the present. “Just as you’re trying to intimidate me now, with this room devoid of anything pleasant, with your cold demeanor, with your arrogance.” His expression changed: eyes narrowing, lips pulling back to show his teeth. “I’ll break you, Agent Gibbs. It will be slow and painful… so much so that they’ll feel it, wherever they are.”

Gibbs sat still, apparently unmoved by the threat. “Who are they? Your cousins? They the ones who hurt you?”

Johnson rose up out of his chair, both hands reaching for Gibbs, who also got to his feet and easily avoided Johnson’s grip, reaching out to slam the man back down. “You sit and stay seated, unless you want to be cuffed,” he growled.

Johnson settled back down, glaring at Gibbs.

Ducky shook his head. “Tone it down, Jethro. Remain sympathetic.”

Gibbs settled back into his chair when Johnson made no move to get back up. He looked at Johnson for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was back to quiet and inquisitive. “That’s it, isn’t it? It’s why you need your art. You can’t strike directly at them; they’re too dangerous. You have to use others as symbols.”

Ziva, Tony and McGee all exchanged glances. McGee glanced at Ducky. “Gibbs is talking about symbols? Isn’t that a little… well, hinky?” Ducky put a finger to his own lips, telling McGee to be quiet, never taking his eyes off Johnson, who had calmed down and reverted back to the less threatening, almost playful persona.

“Exactly. You do understand.”

Gibbs nodded. “You kill to get back at your cousins and to protect yourself and others from it happening again.”

Johnson nodded. “How many people have you hurt in your military career, Agent Gibbs? You need to pay for all of them.” His eyes roamed over Gibbs’ face. “I can see that others have suffered because of you. You have power, but it’s corrupt. You’ll be part of my art, and that way you can make up for what you’ve done.”

Gibbs looked steadily at Johnson. “You planned it all out, every time. You knew what you were going to do and how, you chose your victims carefully, you knew they would die in pain.”

Johnson’s expression turned smug. “Yes, I knew. I wanted them to feel the same pain and fear and helplessness that I did. I made sure they did feel it. Just like I’ll make sure you’ll feel it.”

“You’re still alive. Your cousins didn’t kill you.”

Johnson shrugged. “They may as well have. Do you know what it’s like to live always looking over your shoulder? Waiting for a stronger, more powerful person to take you down? I’m sure you don’t. You’re one of them. How long before you hurt your own family, Agent Gibbs, if you haven’t already?”

They could all see Gibbs stiffen in his chair. Tony grimaced. _That one hit home. It’ll be the boat and bourbon tonight._

Ducky shook his head. “Change tactics, Jethro. Try to get him back on track, more in the present.”

Gibbs drew in a breath, opened the file, and spread the pictures of the crime scenes out in front of Johnson. “The last time we talked, you admitted to killing all these people.”

Johnson looked over the pictures carefully, smiling. “Yes, I did. This is all my own work, and I would do it again.” He looked up at Gibbs. “I _will_ do it again, starting with you.”

Ducky’s eyes narrowed. “Change tactics, Jethro. Surprise or distract him.”

Gibbs gathered up the pictures and placed them back in the file. He sat back in his chair. “There’s something I’m curious about,” he said in a casual tone. Johnson sat back too, looking at Gibbs with that same hungry expression as he’d had at the first interrogation.

Gibbs moved his hand to the table top and idly ran it over the surface. Johnson’s eyes tracked its motion, and his tongue came out to wet his lips. In Observation, Tony growled again, and Ziva muttered something quietly in Hebrew. She walked over to Ducky, peering first at the side of his head nearest her, then around to the other side. Ducky glanced at her, turning his head from side to side to follow her motion. After a moment, she let loose an exclamation. “Ha! You are wearing a microphone. And I would bet anything that Gibbs has an earwig.”

Ducky smiled at her. “Correct, my dear.”

Tony and McGee stared at Ducky. McGee leaned over to whisper to Tony. “Since when does Gibbs need prompting in interrogation?”

Tony sighed. “Since he realized that having Ducky’s expertise in forensic psychology would be helpful in dealing with homicidal nut cases.”

“Did you know?”

“Nope. Expected he would talk to Ducky, but didn’t realize they decided to do this.”

Gibbs suddenly moved his hand back and sat forward, startling Johnson a bit. “You know that society won’t approve of your kind of art. You know you’re in trouble. Why haven’t you asked for a lawyer?”

Johnson started at Gibbs. “A lawyer?” he spat the question. “Lawyers started the whole mess. It’s a lawyer’s fault that I had to go live with those monsters. I didn’t want to. I knew what they were like. I wanted to live with my grandparents, but the lawyer said I couldn’t. So I don’t want any lawyer’s help. I stand by my actions, by my art. I knew what I was doing. I set out to kill with my art, and I did.”

Gibbs nodded and stood abruptly. Johnson stood too; he and Gibbs were almost the same height. The two men stared at each other, then Johnson smiled. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Agent Gibbs. We’re going to have fun.”

Gibbs held his gaze steady a moment longer, then turned his back on Johnson and left the room. The two agents waiting in the hall moved in, cuffed the prisoner, and led him away. This time Johnson went quietly and didn’t look back.

 **Small Revelations**

The team met up with Gibbs in the hall outside the two rooms. Tony looked him over carefully, and saw the tension, especially in his shoulders, neck, and around his eyes. _Boat and bourbon fine, but he gets a massage first._

Gibbs looked at McGee and Ziva. “Ziva, ask Larry to go over the session, make sure we got everything we need. McGee, as soon as Larry confirms that we’re set, put through the request to get that bastard out of here. I want him gone asap.” He turned to Ducky as they left and held out his hand; his earwig was already sitting on his palm. “Nice work, Duck.”

Ducky smiled and dropped the microphone into Gibbs’ hand. “My pleasure, Jethro. Anything to make sure there are no loopholes for him to crawl through.”

Gibbs nodded and moved off down the hall. “DiNozzo, you’re with me.”

Tony followed Gibbs into the elevator; as soon as they were between floors, Gibbs hit the emergency stop. The lights dimmed as the car shuddered to a halt, and Gibbs leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. Tony moved closer. “You okay, Boss?”

Gibbs sighed and opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. “I know we aren’t supposed to do this here, Tony… but can you call me Jethro for the next few minutes?”

Tony moved even closer, until his chest was up against Jethro’s arm. “Of course, Jeth. Whatever you need.”

Gibbs met his eyes. “Thanks.” He rubbed his face with one hand while the other grasped Tony’s and held it tightly. “He just… that made me feel dirty. Being the object of his… interest… “ His voice trailed off and he shuddered.

Tony reached out with his free hand and pulled Gibbs away from the wall and in for a hug. Gibbs’ arm came up around Tony, and they stood like that, Gibbs’ forehead on Tony’s shoulder, Tony’s chin resting on Gibbs’ shoulder, while Tony gently rubbed Gibbs’ back.

“I’m starting to understand why Kyle Boone had such a strong impact on you,” Tony said.

Gibbs shook his head. “Wasn’t the same. Boone played mind games, but he had no interest in making me a target. This was… disconcerting on a whole different level.”

Tony nodded, tightening his arm around Gibbs. “He’s not gonna get you, Jethro. We got what we need. He’ll be put away for the rest of his life.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Gibbs pulled back, letting go of Tony. “Thanks, Tony. I… well, thanks.”

Tony smiled. “S’okay, Jeth. You know, it only took me about four years to realize that you aren’t really a superhero.”

Gibbs snorted. “Don’t tell anyone.”

Tony laughed. “They’d never believe me anyway.”

Gibbs got the elevator moving again. He reached up to ruffle Tony’s hair just before the doors opened, and they headed back to their desks. As Tony sat down, he looked over at Gibbs, then smiled as something occurred to him. _I know what’s changed, why I felt so great this morning. Not really what we did last night, but what it meant… it’s just that he’s really letting himself be vulnerable with me. He wouldn’t have done that, either last night or just now, if he didn’t think this would work._

About two hours later, Ziva got the call from Larry, and Gibbs called in the order to have Johnson transferred from NCIS holding to maximum security prison. Thirty minutes after that, he received confirmation that the transfer was underway. They all breathed a little easier knowing Johnson was out of the building.

They continued to work on their reports, each of them being particularly meticulous and detailed on this one. Ziva went out and picked up lunch, bringing some downstairs to Ducky, Palmer and Abby as well. Another hour passed. McGee was sitting at Tony’s desk, helping him deal with his computer freezing up, and Tony was leaning back behind him when Vance came downstairs. This time he walked right past Tony’s desk, stopping in front of Gibbs. “We’ve got a problem,” he stated firmly.

Gibbs stood up, looking at Vance questioningly.

“There’s been an accident. The transport vehicle carrying Paul Johnson was rammed by a pickup. It was leaking gasoline, so the Marines moved Johnson out of secure holding. There were some serious injuries, and in the confusion Johnson managed to escape. They found his cuffs on the ground not far from the accident, no telling how he got out of them. He’s vanished.”

Tony was on his feet, eyes wide, staring at Gibbs, who stared right back.


	27. Missing In Action

**Protection**

Gibbs couldn’t help but sigh as he walked up to his front door. Tony was following close behind, and Gibbs could feel the tension coming off him in waves. _It’s great, knowing I mean so much to him… but he’s gonna drive me crazy._

Vance had left the bullpen after informing the team of Johnson’s escape, and they’d spent a long afternoon and evening moving from the scene of the accident through the surrounding area, canvassing and trying to find some sort of lead to determine where Johnson had gone, Tony at his side the entire time. No one recognized him or had seen much of anything… not surprising, as they’d all been gawking at the crash and the injured people. The driver of the pickup had been drunk and had gone right through a red light… there was no connection to Johnson that they could find. The only useful piece of information they had was that Johnson had gone into a local branch of a Chase Bank, cleaning out his checking account… which gave him a little over five thousand dollars; plenty of money to rent a car, as Tony had pointed out, looking meaningfully at Gibbs, who had chosen not to show any visible reaction to that statement. They’d stayed at the office pretty late; Ziva had started to suggest that Gibbs remain at NCIS for his own safety, but his glare had quickly put a premature end to that idea.

Gibbs reached out and opened the door, catching Tony’s grimace. He sighed again, walking inside and taking a quick look around… everything seemed normal. He heard Tony close and lock the door behind him.

“You have _got_ to start locking up, Boss.”

Gibbs grunted in response. They split up and moved through the house, checking the first floor over and meeting up in the living room. They just looked at each other for a moment, and then Tony shot him a small smile. “Gonna work on the boat tonight, Boss?”

Gibbs just stared at him and waited. Tony stared back, and then suddenly dropped his head to his chest. “Forgot. Can you believe it? I was thinking earlier, after something Johnson said in interrogation, that you’d need the boat and bourbon tonight.”

Gibbs shrugged. “Cabinet will do.” He looked seriously at Tony. “DiNozzo.”

Tony’s head came up and he looked at Gibbs, just as seriously. “Yeah, Boss?”

Gibbs sighed again and sat down on the couch. Tony remained standing. “Stop hovering. You’re letting our relationship affect the job. What if I’d needed you to take one of the others and go off on your own?”

Tony snorted and flopped down on the other end of the couch, turning toward Gibbs. “Come on, Gibbs. I’ve always been protective of you. It’s no different now that we’re involved.”

Gibbs stared at him skeptically.

Tony sat forward a bit. “I got you out of the river… enough said there. What about when we went after the cybervid killer, when we thought you were his next target? I wanted you to stay in the car, remember?”

“Yeah, and I threatened to shoot you.”

Tony shot him a humorless smile. “But you didn’t. There was the time we were confronting Damon Werth at the hospital… remember how he threw you off him, and you went down? I tried to catch you rather than going after him. Thought I’d catch hell from you for that, but you never said anything.”

Gibbs sat back on the couch. “Alright, point taken. But I don’t want to hear an argument from you if we need to split up at some point.”

Tony made a face at him, but nodded. “Understood.”

They sat there on the couch for a while, each staring off into space. Gibbs glanced over at Tony, who was finally starting to relax a little. “Tony.”

Tony stretched a bit and looked at him. “Yeah, Jethro?”

Gibbs sat up, facing him. “What did I ever do to deserve your loyalty?”

Tony looked at him, surprised. “You’re a Marine, Jeth. You don’t need me to explain Semper Fi to you.”

Gibbs laughed. “No, I really don’t. But you’re not a Marine. You came to NCIS immediately when I offered you the job, you stayed past your usual two year mark, you’ve been on my six all these years… why?”

Tony batted his eyelashes. “Love at first sight?”

Gibbs growled, grabbed a cushion off the back of the couch, and swatted Tony with it. “Try again.”

Tony’s laughter faded out, and he sat back, staring at the coffee table. He turned to Gibbs. “I guess it’s because you believed in me. You just seemed to know what I was capable of, and you made me want to do better.”

Gibbs looked at him and nodded. “Okay.” He looked around the room. “Wanna go change, hit the basement, think about dinner?”

Tony nodded and they both stood up; Gibbs led the way to the stairs and up to the bedroom. When he reached the door, he stopped suddenly, causing Tony to bump into him.

“Shit.”

Tony shifted so that he could see into the room. The first thing he noticed was the pictures, the ones Abby had taken of them, that they’d put up over the weekend. They were turned to face the wall. The second thing was a single flowering branch laid across the pillows on the bed, covered with green leaves and small yellow flowers.

Guns drawn, they cleared the entire house before coming back into the bedroom. Tony stared at the pictures hanging backwards. “So now he knows about us.”

Gibbs reached out and took Tony’s hand, squeezing it gently. He pulled his cell phone off his belt and hit a button, then another to put the phone on speaker. Ducky picked up on the third ring.

“Hello, Jethro! What can I do for you?”

“We’re at the house. He’s been here, Duck.”

“Oh, my. Is anyone hurt?”

“No, seems he’s long gone.”

“How did he find out where you live?”

Gibbs looked at Tony. “He knows my name. Not hard to track me down from there, especially if he’s good at using the internet.” Tony nodded.

“What has he done?”

Gibbs looked around the room. “Not much. No sign of anything except in the bedroom. Turned pictures of me and Tony to the wall, laid a sprig of forsythia across the bed.”

“Are you referring to the pictures Abigail took of you together?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm. That could indicate jealousy, and it might make him more dangerous, especially where Tony is concerned. Our young friend is no longer off Johnson’s radar, I’m afraid… he’s relevant because of his connection to you. I suspect, though, that the turning of the pictures to face the wall indicates denial as well… I doubt Tony has anything to fear as long as he doesn’t get in Johnson’s way.”

Tony spoke up, his voice quiet and even. “I will definitely be getting in his way, Ducky.”

“Of course you will, my boy. None of us would expect anything less. Just be careful. Shoot first, ask questions later.”

Tony and Gibbs both chuckled at that one. Gibbs spoke again. “What about the forsythia, Duck?”

“Ah, yes indeed. Most intriguing. Flowers are such an interesting language, Jethro. My mother was very fond of them, and used them to great effect in her social circle. She once had a bunch of wilted flowers delivered to a former flame. Made a tremendous impression on him… he showed up at her door only to be quite scathingly rejected, which of course had been her intent all along.”

“So what does it mean, Duck?”

“Forsythia? It means anticipation, Jethro.”

“Thanks.” Gibbs snapped the phone shut.

Tony looked steadily at Gibbs. “We both should be head slapped for not clearing upstairs. And we’re not staying here.”

Gibbs opened his mouth to argue, then closed it without saying anything. If it were just him, he’d stay. But putting Tony in the line of fire if he didn’t have to… no.

“Where?”

“My place. I’m certain Johnson never got my name. I’ll drive, you watch for a tail.”

Gibbs nodded, then moved to the closet, grabbing a pack and tossing it on the bed. He added several days worth of clothes, then moved to the wall, taking down the pictures, and turning them over. No damage. He put them in the pack as well, glancing over at Tony, who looked puzzled. “In case we need to send anyone else in here.” Tony nodded.

Once he was done, Gibbs reached over to grab the forsythia, then left the room, Tony following. Gibbs locked the front door on his way out, and stopped to place the forsythia in a trash can before getting into the passenger seat of Tony’s car. Tony scanned the area before he got in the car, seeing nothing.

The drive to the apartment took over an hour. Tony took a winding route to the interstate, going several miles before getting off the highway and doubling back. They took a long, random trip through several neighborhoods near Tony’s before Gibbs had finally had enough. There was no sign of anyone following them, so they went home.

Once there, they called everyone to give them the update. Ziva, McGee and Abby agreed to stay together until it was over; they all remembered that Johnson had tried to kidnap a petty officer to trade her for her boyfriend, and they all knew that Gibbs would give himself up to Johnson if it meant saving a member of his team. It might not have been necessary, since Johnson had never seen any of them, with or without Gibbs, but no one wanted to take any chances.

Tony called for a pizza, then sat on his couch and watched Gibbs pace around the apartment. “We should have brought some of the wood with us,” he joked.

Gibbs shot him a half smile. “You’re probably right.” He checked his watch. “How long until the pizza gets here?”

“Around thirty minutes.”

Gibbs nodded. “Gonna shower.” He turned and went down the hall to the master bedroom. Tony followed after a few minutes, turning back around to the living room when he saw that Gibbs had shut the bathroom door. It didn’t bother him; he knew Gibbs was going to chafe under protective custody. _Nothing to do with me… everything to do with his team being at risk and his freedom curtailed. I’d feel the same way._

They ate dinner in a comfortable silence, then watched The Sting, with Robert Redford and Paul Newman, to unwind a bit. Gibbs had seen it a very long time ago, and didn’t remember much about it, but he seemed to enjoy it. They both stayed on the couch, Tony sprawled out with his feet tucked up against Gibbs, Gibbs sitting up with his hand idly rubbing Tony’s leg.

It was late by the time the movie ended. They both stood and stretched, and Tony looked inquiringly at Gibbs. “Where do you want to sleep?”

Gibbs looked slightly confused by the question. “Where do you think?”

Tony looked a bit sheepish. “Okay, so maybe that was a silly question. But I would understand if you wanted some space.”

Gibbs shook his head. “Your bed sounds good to me. But just to sleep.”

Tony nodded. “We need to keep our heads in the game.”

Gibbs smiled at him and clapped him on the shoulder. They made their way down the hall after Tony turned everything off in the living room, each of them ducking into a bathroom before stripping down and getting into bed. They kept apart for only a few minutes… then with nearly identical sighs, they turned toward each other, Tony resting his head on Gibbs’ shoulder, Gibbs with his arms around Tony, and fell asleep.

 **Investigation**

The search for Johnson continued the next morning. They didn’t have much to go on, since he wasn’t from the area. McGee flagged his credit cards, but the large withdrawal he’d made the day before made it clear that he wasn’t going to need to use them. A call to the bank had established that he’d been able to make the withdrawal by having them use the signature and driver’s license they had on file, along with his personal security code, claiming his wallet had been stolen. They assumed that he would be able to get a fake license easily enough, since he’d done it many times before; the DMV offices in the tri-state area had been alerted, but his ability to disguise himself meant they didn’t hold out too much hope that the clerks would recognize him.

Tony and McGee were out canvassing rental car companies, bringing copies of a sheet of license photos that Johnson had used in the past. Tony hadn’t wanted to go, but Ziva wasn’t cleared for field work. Gibbs got him to agree to do it by swearing to stay in the building until Tony got back, and by reminding Tony a bit forcefully of their conversation last night. Neither of them noticed Vance standing nearby, listening in, until Tony left with McGee and Gibbs looked up to see him there. Vance simply nodded and turned away, leaving Gibbs to frantically run the conversation through his head to see if he’d let anything slip. He didn’t think so, but he found it difficult to concentrate after that.

Vance was running the conversation through his head as he walked to the elevator. It seemed off. Gibbs was actually explaining things to DiNozzo, and DiNozzo wasn’t as deferential as he would have expected. That, combined with the heightened sense of urgency in the bullpen, prompted him to send the elevator down instead of up.

He walked into Autopsy, almost bumping into Jimmy Palmer as the young man came through the sliding door, looking back at Dr. Mallard and talking as he went. Vance quickly dismissed the stuttering apologies and strode through the door, looking around quickly to see that they were alone. Dr. Mallard turned toward him, surprised but affable.

“Director Vance! How can I help you this morning?”

“I’m looking for answers, Dr. Mallard.”

“Then I shall endeavor to supply them for you.”

Vance regarded the ME for a moment, then tossed his question out. “What’s going on with Gibbs and DiNozzo?”

The ME seemed taken aback. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Vance moved forward a few steps, until he was standing opposite Dr. Mallard, an autopsy table between them. He impatiently grabbed a toothpick out of his jacket pocket, fiddling with it while he spoke. “I just watched them having an argument. Gibbs was explaining things… out of character for him. DiNozzo was standing up to him… also out of character. Put that together with the tension up there, and it’s obvious there are things going on that no one’s sharing.”

“So you have come to me for answers.”

Vance nodded curtly. “Gibbs keeps everything close to the vest. I don’t feel like getting into the power struggle. And everyone on his team is loyal to him over me or the agency, so I won’t get the answers there.”

“No offense, Director, but what makes you think my loyalty is any different?”

Vance stared at him. “I don’t. But I do think you can see the big picture, and might be willing to share information for the good of the team.”

The ME sighed. “And there, you may be right. I will tell you what I believe to be pertinent.” He paused, clearly gathering his thoughts. “First off, I believe you have a fundamental misunderstanding regarding Agent DiNozzo’s character. One of the things that makes him so valuable to Gibbs is his willingness to stand up to him when the situation demands it, and Jethro is well aware of that.”

“Huh. Alright.”

“Second… the tension in the team has two main sources. One is Johnson’s escape… you are aware that he developed an obsession with Gibbs during interrogation, and that he has made it clear that Gibbs is his next target?”

Vance stared at him. “Is the situation that serious? His fixation on Gibbs was mentioned in all the reports, but it seemed minor.”

“Oh, no indeed, Director… I assure you the threat is very real.”

Vance nodded. “Noted. And the second thing?”

Dr. Mallard looked at Vance seriously. “You’ve made it clear that you want Anthony to take the new job in Seattle.”

Vance shrugged. “True. That’s causing tension because they think he won’t take it?”

Dr. Mallard removed his glasses and cleaned them vigorously. He put them back on and gave Vance an irritated look. “Not at all. It’s causing tension because they _don’t want_ him to take it.”

Vance straightened up, clearly surprised. “I know Gibbs wants him to stay, but I thought McGee would appreciate the opportunity.”

The ME shook his head. “I think that perhaps you don’t entirely understand what makes that team work so well. You are aware that Gibbs lost his family many years ago?”

Vance nodded. “Of course. But I don’t see –“

Dr. Mallard cut him off. “Imagine how you would feel if you lost your own family, Director, then finally found a new one… how would you react if someone tried to take it away from you?”

Vance stared at him for a moment, then smiled slightly. “Probably exactly like Gibbs has reacted to me since I split up the team following the death of Director Shepherd.”

Dr. Mallard tilted his head and looked at him. “And it’s not just Gibbs who feels it… they all do. The connection they share is what enables them to do such a superior job.”

Vance stuck the toothpick in his mouth and chewed on it for a moment. “You’ve given me some things to think about, Doctor. Thank you.” He turned to leave, then stopped and turned back. “How did you find out about DiNozzo’s job offer?”

Dr. Mallard smiled. “Agent McGee came to me about it, asking for advice on how to get Tony to stay.”

Vance’s eyebrows shot up. He considered that for a moment, then nodded to the ME and left the room.

Several hours later, Vance strode into the bullpen, walking up to Gibbs’ desk. Gibbs’ expression as he looked at Vance was particularly guarded, and Vance noticed Ziva looking at him warily. “Where are DiNozzo and McGee?”

Gibbs continued to just look at him. Ziva finally spoke up. “They called in a little while ago, having just left the last rental car company. They should be here any minute.”

“Good.” He turned to look at Gibbs. “I watched the video of the Johnson interrogations.”

Gibbs simply raised an eyebrow. Vance was wondering if he could get away with a head slap when he heard the elevator. McGee and DiNozzo stepped out, and the senior field agent was calling out to Gibbs. “Boss! He may have rented a car this morning!”

Vance stepped back, observing while the two agents moved to stand in front of Gibbs, who rose to his feet. Ziva came over from her desk. McGee pulled out a sheet of paper with a copy of a driver’s license on it. Tony grabbed it from him and held it out to Gibbs. “This guy walked in to the Avis on M street around 10 this morning, rented a black Hummer.”

Gibbs took the paper and looked at it. The picture could be of Johnson, if he had used his usual type of disguise. “Ziva, call Ducky. Ask him to meet us in Abby’s lab.”

Ziva turned to her desk, but was brought up short by Vance clearing his throat. The entire team turned to look at him. He let his gaze travel over all of them before he spoke. “I was just telling Agent Gibbs that I watched the video of the Johnson interrogations. DiNozzo… I want you with Gibbs 24/7. Protective custody. Don’t let him out of your sight… shower together, sleep in the same bed if you have to, I don’t give a damn.”

Tony’s eyes got big. “Um… okay.”

Vance continued. “I want this guy caught. Forget about the Seattle job for now – I want one hundred percent of your focus on this case. We’ll discuss it again after this is over.”

Tony nodded, eyes still big. Vance noticed that Ziva and McGee seemed to suppressing smiles, but he couldn’t worry about that right now. He turned to Gibbs, who was particularly stone-faced. “Gibbs, I know you don’t want DiNozzo in your space like this, but you’ll have to make do. I’ve seen obsessions like this before. Johnson is dangerous. Anything that has to do with your safety, you take your orders from DiNozzo.”

Gibbs’ eyes shifted over to his senior field agent, who now seemed particularly gleeful. He looked back at Vance. “Understood, Director.”

Vance gave him a short nod. “If a case comes up, I’m sending you out. Might draw him out to you, should be an easy collar.”

All the smiles and smirks vanished instantly. “You are making Gibbs into bait?” Ziva asked, her voice incredulous.

Vance turned to her. “Sooner we catch the bastard, sooner we can all rest easy.” He surveyed the team one more time, then left.

They all looked at each other, then Tony, Ziva and McGee turned to Gibbs, all grinning. Gibbs rolled his eyes and led the way to the elevator.

Ducky and Abby were waiting for them when they arrived. Gibbs handed the copy of the license to Abby, who immediately put it in the scanner and fed the resulting image into a program to compare the face on the license with those on the other fakes and with Johnson’s mug shot.

Ducky spoke up as they all gathered around the table in front of Major Mass Spec. “I must warn you all that Director Vance came to see me this morning; he was asking questions about you and Anthony, Jethro.”

Gibbs nodded. Tony spoke up. “I have to thank you for whatever you said, Ducky.”

Ducky looked confused. “And why is that, my boy?”

Tony grinned. “Vance just put me on protection detail, 24/7. I’m under orders to shower and sleep with Gibbs. And he’s under orders to follow _my_ orders.”

Ducky smiled. “It’s good to know that you’ve been officially sanctioned... even if Director Vance doesn’t know the actual implications.”

McGee spoke up. “In all fairness, Tony, I really doubt the Director meant all that literally.”

Tony glared at him. “I have been trained to follow orders to the letter, McKilljoy. Since when are they open to interpretation?” He reached out to head smack the smirking McGee, who dodged.

Gibbs sighed. “Can we get back to the case now?”

A chorus of agreement followed. Gibbs turned to McGee. “When we’re done with this campfire, I want you and Abby to start following up on all the information on the rental car agreement and that driver’s license. May not lead anywhere, but we’re checking everything out.” McGee and Abby nodded.

Gibbs turned to Ducky. “If it’s him, he rented a black Hummer. Does that fit the profile?”

Ducky considered that. “It may be that he chose each car to fit his perception of his intended victim. In which case, yes, it fits the profile. The car is ostentatious, larger than life, and that may be how he views you… he is looking to make a powerful statement. So, powerful man, powerful car.”

Tony shook his head. “No class. Lousy choice.”

Gibbs shot him a look. Tony grinned. Shaking his head, Gibbs started to say something else, but was interrupted when Abby’s computer dinged. She went to check it. “89% match of the driver’s license photo to Johnson, Gibbs!”

He nodded. “Alright, so we assume it’s him. McGee, put out another BOLO on the license information, and on the car, including the VIN as well as the license plate, in case he switches that out.” He looked thoughtfully at the file in front of him, paging through the crime scene photos. Then he looked up at the team. “How does he manage this on his own?” They all stared at him. “There’s no hint of an accomplice. He’s not a small man, but he’s not a giant either. How is he subduing military personnel, kidnapping them, and getting them into these cars?”

Tony grimaced. “Drugs?”

Gibbs looked at Abby and Ducky. Ducky nodded. “It’s certainly possible. Some tranquilizers make people physically weak; valium, for example, can cause a loss of motor coordination and dampen a person’s will and awareness.”

Abby spoke up. “I was once at a party where someone took a muscle relaxant combined with anti-depressants. She was lucky… she didn’t have any long term effects from it, but she was really weak and she responded easily to suggestion.”

They all considered that. Tony gestured at Gibbs. “Okay, Boss… I’m ordering you not to take any drugs or let anyone stick you with a needle.”

Gibbs stared at Tony, who grinned at him. Abby smiled. “Tony, do you realize the possibilities?!”

Tony smiled. “Oh, yeah. Unfortunately, we’ve agreed that we need to stay focused… maybe a rain check, Boss?”

Gibbs stared at Tony some more, then turned back to Ducky. “Anything in the autopsy reports to indicate drugs?”

Ducky considered that. “I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. I’ll check again… some of those drugs metabolize quickly, so it would depend on what he used, if he used anything. But based on his psychological profile, I’d say he wanted his victims alert at the time of their deaths. So once he had them secured, he probably didn’t keep them drugged, if he used drugs at all.”

“Could he have just knocked them out?” McGee asked.

“Sure,” Gibbs responded, “but he’d have to be strong enough to move them while they’re unconscious.”

“Any antidotes Gibbs could carry around with him?” Tony asked. Ducky and Abby looked at each other again.

“I could do a little research,” Abby said. “If there’s something, maybe we could get it and Gibbs could take it periodically, just in case.”

There didn’t seem to be as much to discuss after that. Ducky and Abby started to research the drug end of things, while Ziva and McGee focused on the rental car agreement and the license. Tony and Gibbs headed for the elevator to go back up to the bullpen. Gibbs hit the emergency stop as soon as it started moving.

“You know,” Tony said, “one of these days it will refuse to start up again. Sort of like a karma thing.”

Gibbs just looked at him. Tony sighed. “I’m not going to take advantage of Vance’s orders, Gibbs… you know that. This whole thing sucks.”

Gibbs nodded. “I know, Tony. We just need to be careful… Vance is picking up on things, if he asked Ducky about us.”

Tony nodded back. “Yeah. Extra vigilance from now on. At least if we slip up we can blame it on the stress of the current situation.”

Gibbs reached to start up the elevator again, then paused. He turned back to face Tony. “Tony… if somehow the worst happens, don’t blame yourself. Stay focused. You were right earlier… I do believe in you.” He turned back to the door and got the elevator going again.

Tony reached forward and grasped Gibbs’ hand, giving it a squeeze before letting go. “Thanks, Boss.” They stepped out of the elevator and headed back to their desks, intent on finding more clues to Johnson’s location.

 **Gone**

Gibbs looked around at the crime scene, scanning the nearby area for any sign of a threat. It wasn’t likely that there would be one; Vance had sent two teams out to the site, and the local LEOs were helping to comb through the woods surrounding the field where the Navy Lieutenant lay dead, an apparent rape and murder victim. Ducky and Palmer were working on the body, Tony was sketching, and McGee was taking pictures. Pearson’s team was also a man down, so they were helping out, interviewing the local kids who had found the body, and talking to people at the gas station and restaurant nearby. Ziva was back at the office, calling periodically as she found more information on the victim’s life. Everyone, including the LEOs, had been briefed on Johnson and knew to keep an eye on Gibbs. He thought maybe he now knew how zoo animals felt.

Tony kept glancing over at Gibbs, glaring at him when Gibbs went what Tony considered to be too far away. Gibbs almost made a sarcastic comment that maybe Tony should get one of those leash things parents used on small children, but then he realized Tony might follow through on that, so he stayed quiet.

In all fairness, Tony was really being careful not to drive Gibbs crazy, and Gibbs had to admit that. They’d finally left last night after coming up empty on any additional information, Gibbs in Ziva’s car, Tony heading in the opposite direction. Twenty minutes of insane driving later, made worse by Ziva’s injured arm, they all met up at a crowded hotel parking lot and Gibbs had switched cars. Another forty minutes and they were back at Tony’s apartment.

Gibbs had expected Tony to joke around about Vance’s orders, but to his surprise Tony hadn’t mentioned them once. There had been a few more jokes at the office, and a very off-color e-mail sent to them on a secure server from Abby with all sorts of interesting suggestions, but at home it was as if they didn’t exist. Tony had ordered from the Italian restaurant nearby, and they’d relaxed in the living room in front of another movie. This time it was The Fugitive, with Harrison Ford and Tommy Lee Jones; Tony had been shocked that Gibbs had never seen it. Gibbs had enjoyed it and been mildly amused when he recognized the speech that Tony liked to give every time they had a fugitive situation at work.

After the movie, Tony had insisted on giving Gibbs a massage, trying to get him to relax. It had worked; Gibbs had slept well that night, curled up with Tony. The morning had gone smoothly enough, and they’d gotten called out around ten thirty, just after the body was discovered.

There was a shout; someone was calling Gibbs’ name. He turned to see one of the police officers waving to him from the nearby trees. “Agent Gibbs! You should come see this!” Gibbs threw up his hand in acknowledgment, and turned to Tony, who was walking over to him.

“Stay here and finish up the sketch, DiNozzo. You can’t have much left.”

Tony glanced down at the sketch pad. “Yeah, almost done, Boss. But I can finish up after we get back.”

Gibbs gave him an irritated look. “Tony, we’re in the middle of nowhere. We’d have noticed a car driving up, and the place is literally crawling with cops. I’ll be perfectly fine.”

Tony’s expression turned stubborn. “You do realize you just jinxed yourself, don’t you? That cop’s gonna turn out to be Johnson in disguise.” Gibbs glared at him. “Or something,” Tony added defensively.

“Tony,” Gibbs said, “by the time I reach the trees, you’ll be done. Finish up and catch up.”

Tony glared back at him. “If I’m that close to done, wait two seconds and I’ll go with you.”

Gibbs rolled his eyes. “Fine. Hurry up.” He turned back to the cop and waved again; the cop waved back and stood waiting.

Tony was just finishing the sketch when one of Pearson’s agents jogged over with some information. He started going over it with Tony, who took out his pad and began taking some notes. Gibbs threw up his hands, then turned and walked toward the trees, knowing Tony would be right behind him. As soon as he got close, he called out to the cop, “What do you have?”

“Possible murder weapon,” the man answered. “Got a knife here in the bushes, blood on the blade. Didn’t touch it, figured you’d want pictures first.”

Gibbs nodded. “Good job.” He followed the cop into the woods.

Tony finished taking down the information and turned to see no sign of Gibbs or the cop. “Damn it!” He set off at a run, startling McGee, who shouted something and set off after him. Tony got to the woods where he’d seen the cop; there was no one there. “Gibbs!”

Nothing.

“Damn it Jethro, answer me!”

Still nothing.

Tony plunged into the woods, looking around frantically, seeing no one. Then he heard the sound of a car engine, and bolted in that direction. He got to a dirt road just in time to see the speeding car disappear around a corner. One part of his mind registered the fact that it was a rather non-descript sedan… the rest was trying to absorb the significance of the NCIS cap lying in the road.


	28. Reactions

**At The Scene**

Tony stared in the direction the car had gone, then looked down at the cap. He crouched down and picked it up, standing just as he heard McGee come up behind him.

“Tony, what –“

Tony turned around, holding Gibbs’ cap, staring blankly at McGee. The junior agent stared at the cap, then looked back at Tony. “Is that… Gibbs’?”

Tony took in a breath, then another, then another… then suddenly McGee was next to him, holding his arm.

“Easy, Tony. Careful… breathe slowly. Deep breath – hold it. Good. Now sit down.”

Tony was aware of McGee helping him down to the ground. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back, following McGee’s advice and breathing deeply. As he started to feel more settled, he opened his eyes. McGee was kneeling in front of him, looking at him with concern. “What happened?” Tony asked.

McGee’s brow furrowed, but he answered readily enough. “You ran for the woods, I followed you. Heard you yelling for Gibbs, then a car peeling out. Found you standing in the road. You picked up the cap, then started to hyperventilate. You almost passed out.”

Tony nodded, then let his head drop, his chin almost touching his chest. He held Gibbs’ cap in both hands, his thumbs stroking the brim.

“Tony… was it Johnson?”

Tony looked up at McGee and shrugged. “Must have been. Cop called for Gibbs to go see something… Gibbs was supposed to wait for me, but he didn’t… why didn’t he wait, Tim?”

McGee shook his head. “I don’t know, Tony.”

Tony grimaced then got to his feet. “Cop was Johnson in disguise.”

McGee followed him up. “You’re kidding. Wouldn’t Gibbs recognize him, even in disguise?”

Tony shrugged again and stared at the cap.

McGee reached out and grabbed Tony’s arm, shaking him a bit. “Tony! Snap out of it. We need to start looking for Gibbs. What did you see?”

Tony shook himself. “Gibbs followed the cop into the woods. I was talking to John Bennett, you know, on Pearson’s team… when I looked up, Gibbs and the cop were gone. I ran to follow them, and there was no sign of anyone. I got here, and the car was going around those trees.” He gestured vaguely in that direction. “Nothing else… just this.” He held up the cap, blinking at it when it seemed to blur. He reached up to wipe at his eyes.

“Okay, Tony. C’mon, let’s go.”

Tony followed McGee back toward the field. His mind was racing. _Gibbs is gone. That bastard Johnson got him. Gibbs is doing to die chained up in a car. Jethro is going to die…_

“No.”

McGee stopped and turned. “What?”

Tony stared at McGee for a moment, then set off, walking purposefully back to the crime scene. “It was a beige sedan, maybe a Ford. Caught the first two letters on the license plate… NT. Maybe a 3 in the last couple of numbers. I’m not sure.” He stopped near the edge of the woods. “Take your camera, go back and get shots of the tire tracks. Process the scene.”

McGee nodded, looking relieved that Tony was back to himself. He turned to go back, when they heard a low groan from the bushes off to the right.

They both immediately drew their guns. Tony made eye contact with McGee, motioning with his head for him to go to the opposite side. McGee nodded and moved carefully.

Tony approached the bushes; branches were starting to shift as someone moved. _Please, let it be Jethro. Please._

There was another groan, and then the cop crawled out from under the bushes, staggering to his feet and putting a hand to the back of his head. Tony stared, then called out, “Freeze!”

The cop stopped moving as best he could, squinting up at Tony. McGee stared at Tony, who slowly lowered his weapon. It wasn’t Johnson.

 **Taken**

Gibbs lay in the car trunk, fighting to clear his head through the pain and the fog.

He remembered walking into the woods, then a blur of movement off to the side. The cop went down from a blow to the head; Gibbs had turned, catching a glancing blow to his upper back and falling to the ground. He’d shifted to his side, sweeping his legs to bring Johnson down. He’d rolled away, reaching for his gun, when he’d felt a sharp sting in his leg and then Johnson’s weight trying to hold him down. He’d fought for a few more seconds, and then his limbs had stopped responding the way he wanted. Things had started spinning, and it had been all he could do to keep from passing out. He’d felt Johnson grab his gun and toss it into the bushes; he’d tried to move toward it, but his body betrayed him and he couldn’t make any forward progress.

Everything went mostly blank after that. He had very vague memories of Johnson pulling him to his feet and half dragging him to the car, its trunk already open. He remembered being pushed in, then nothing for a while. He’d been a bit more aware for the past several minutes, but his body still wouldn’t respond; he could barely move.

He felt the car jolt as it went over a bump, then everything went black.

 **NCIS**

Tony led the way into Abby’s lab, Ziva and McGee following close behind. They’d gotten the cop’s statement before he went to the hospital, and started a manhunt directly afterwards, leaving Pearson’s team to take care of the crime scene. Tracking the beige sedan had proved fruitless; no one had noticed it. The BOLO on the incomplete plate had yielded a few false leads, which they’d wasted time tracking down. There had been nothing on the black Hummer. Follow-up with the Avis on M Street hadn’t yielded much either; neither had a canvass of the surrounding neighborhood. They’d worked late into the night, caught sleep when they could, then started up again in the morning. None of them had gone home.

Tony was hoping Abby would have something for them to go on from the crime scene. Pearson’s team had brought back the knife the cop had wanted to show Gibbs, among other things… the usual samples of hair, fibers, and so on. Abby turned as the team came into the room; her face showed traces of mascara where tears had caused it to smudge. “Tony!” She launched herself at him, hugging him hard; he hugged back for a few seconds, then gently disengaged.

“What have you found, Abs?”

She took a deep breath and gave him a tremulous smile. Turning back to her computer, she hit a few keys, bringing up a picture of the knife. “Fingerprints on the handle match Johnson. He was the killer, Tony.” She gazed at him imploringly.

Tony’s eyes met hers, and he sighed. “I don’t know, Abs. I want to tell you everything will be alright… but I don’t know.”

She swallowed and nodded. “I don’t have much else yet. Most of the samples Pearson brought back are pretty non-descript… the ones I’ve processed so far, anyway. There’s more to do still, so I’ll find something. I will.” She looked from Tony to the others and back. “I have to.”

Ziva reached out and put her hand on Abby’s arm. “If it is there, you will find it, Abby.”

Abby nodded, ducked her head for a moment, then looked back at the computer. She hit a few more keys, and pictures of tire tracks came up on the screen. “The tires are pretty generic Bridgestones… they don’t give any clue about the car. It could be a number of different makes and models.”

Tony nodded. “Anything from Ducky?”

She shook her head. “The samples he sent me so far are negative. No sign of any semen or other indication of rape, at least nothing my babies are picking up.”

McGee spoke up. “At least we know he doesn’t have Gibbs’ gun.” It had been found in the bushes nearby, still fully loaded.

Tony shrugged. “I’d have been happier if Gibbs had managed to shoot the bastard. And there are lots of other ways to kill someone… Johnson doesn’t need a gun.” He paused, wincing slightly at Abby’s choked sob. Ziva glared at him. “Besides,” he added angrily, pissed at himself, “he’s already done that.” Tony swore softly as Ziva moved to comfort Abby, who was now crying silently, tears running down her face. “Abs, I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, pigtails swinging. “No, Tony… it’s okay. Just… go save Gibbs. Now. Please?”

Tony gave her a half smile, then turned to walk toward the door. He stopped as John Bennett came running in, an evidence bag in his hand. “I found something!” He handed the bag to Abby just as she made a grab for it. She held it up… it was an empty syringe.

Bennett was talking to Tony, explaining. “I felt guilty, you know? If I hadn’t interrupted you when I did, you’d have been able to go with him.”

Tony shook his head. “Not your fault, John. Impatient bastard wouldn’t wait.”

Everyone stared at him, shocked. He looked back at each of them, then back to Bennett. “So where did you find it?”

Glancing at the others uncomfortably, Bennett continued. “I went back to the scene, thought I’d widen the search a bit, see if I couldn’t find anything else. Found that in a pile of leaves just a few yards outside of our search area.”

Tony gave him a small smile and clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, John. Could be the break we need.”

Bennett nodded and turned to leave. “Gibbs has more lives than a cat,” he said over his shoulder. “You guys’ll find him.”

Tony turned to Abby, who had pulled on some gloves and already cut into the evidence bag. “Can you get anything from that, Abs?”

She looked over at him with new determination. “I can and I will. I’ll tell you if there are any prints, and I’ll tell you what was in there. There will be enough residue for Major Mass Spec to do his thing. Once I get that, I might be able to trace where he got it.”

Tony nodded. “You get on that, Abs. McGee… help her with that and the rest of the samples.”

McGee nodded. Tony turned to Ziva. “Ziva, check on those BOLOs again, run down anything else you can think of. See if there are any patterns from the previous killings, anything we might have missed that could give us a clue to his location. I’m going to go see Ducky.”

They all watched him leave, then looked at each other. “He is not being Tony,” Ziva said. “He is too serious.”

McGee shook his head. “He’s worried. And it’s got to tougher than usual, now that he and Gibbs…” His voice trailed off. They all looked at each other for a moment, then set to work without any further comment.

Tony walked into Autopsy, saying nothing in response to the sympathetic look Palmer sent his way. Ducky looked up as Tony approached.

“How are you holding up, Anthony?”

Tony shrugged. “Can’t afford to be anything less than fine right now, Ducky.” He looked down at the body of the Naval Lieutenant from the crime scene. “It was Johnson, Ducky. He killed her.”

Ducky nodded. “Abby told me. It was a trap, set to lure Jethro to him, wasn’t it?”

Tony looked up from the body. “Looks like it.” Suddenly Tony sagged a bit against the table behind him. “What do you think, Ducky? Johnson said time would be part of this… do we still have any left?”

Ducky looked at Tony carefully, then motioned to Palmer. “Mr. Palmer, bring that chair over if you would, please.”

“Right away, Doctor.” Palmer wheeled the chair over, and Ducky took hold of Tony’s arm and pushed him into it.

“How much sleep did you get last night, Tony?”

Tony shrugged. “A few hours here and there. Slept at my desk.”

Ducky shook his head. “Anthony… you listen to me, my dear boy. You must take care of yourself, or you’ll be no good to Jethro.”

Tony stared up at Ducky. “How am I supposed to worry about me when that psychotic bastard has Gibbs?! We don’t have a clue where he is, we don’t know when we’re going to run out of time, I don’t know if Jeth is still alive!”

Ducky glanced at Palmer and then at the door. Palmer nodded and left. Ducky then looked seriously at Tony. “It seems to me that we must assume Jethro is still alive. He is not without resources, you know. If anyone can get himself out of a scrape, it’s Jethro. But if you don’t take care of yourself, you won’t be of any help to him.”

Tony nodded, dropping his head and running his hands through his hair. “I know. You’re right. It’s just…” He waved his hand aimlessly, not knowing what else to say.

Ducky nodded. “It’s one thing to be his second when he is just your team leader, your mentor, and your friend. It’s another thing entirely when he is your lover.”

Tony sat back and looked at him. “Not to mention when said lover promises that he’ll let you be on his six, then breaks that promise.”

Ducky sighed. “Oh dear.”

“Yeah.”

“Can you put it aside for now? Be angry with him all you want once he’s safe, but get him safe first, Anthony.”

Tony nodded. “I’ve been shoving it aside as much as I can, Ducky. But we’re running out of leads and ideas, and it just keeps creeping back in.”

Ducky patted Tony on the shoulder. “We are just about done with this poor girl. I will go over the recordings of the interrogations and see if I can pick up on anything that might help.”

“Thanks, Ducky.” Tony gave him a small smile, then got up and headed for the elevator.

 **Moved**

Gibbs slowly became aware of a hand caressing the side of his face. He tried to reach up to grasp it, but his arm wouldn’t move the way he wanted. He tried to speak; it was a tremendous effort. It took several attempts, but he finally found his voice; when he did, though, it sounded very far away.

“Tony?”

The touch faltered, then disappeared. There was nothing for a moment, then he felt hands on his arm and shoulder, pulling roughly. His arm hit something solid; he forced his eyes open, and saw that he was still in the trunk of a car. He turned his head, trying to get his bearings; there was another harsh tug on his shoulder, and he instinctively pulled away from it. _Not Tony… Tony wouldn’t do that._

Someone grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked sharply, forcing his head up and to the side. Gibbs looked up into Johnson’s expressionless face.

“You should cooperate, Agent Gibbs.”

Gibbs blinked, trying to clear the fuzziness in his thoughts. _Can’t…_

Johnson let go of Gibbs’ hair, and pulled on him, adjusting his grip now and then, until Gibbs found himself falling out of the trunk. He hit the ground hard, grunting a bit when he landed on the shoulder he’d hurt pushing McGee out of the way of that car not so long ago. Then Johnson was helping him up to his feet; to his surprise, Gibbs found that he could stand, although he could feel himself swaying dangerously.

Gibbs could feel his NCIS jacket being removed, and then Johnson was half pulling, half coaxing him to move forward. It took a lot of determination, but Gibbs finally managed to put one foot in front of the other, staggering a little.

“That’s it, Agent Gibbs. We’ll just get you situated, then you can sleep some more.”

Gibbs looked up, and saw a large black SUV sitting not too far away. The front door on the driver’s side sat open. _No… bad idea. Don’t let him…_ He tried to pull away from Johnson, but only succeeded in tripping over his own foot and nearly went down. Johnson made an annoyed sound and hung on to him, keeping him upright, then shoving him toward the car. Gibbs fell forward, hitting the ground hard again, tasting blood.

“Now see what you made me do. That wasn’t in the plan.”

Gibbs was pulled to his feet again, and pushed forward, half falling into the driver’s seat of the car. He managed to get some leverage, pushing against the seat and almost pulling free of the car… then he felt a sharp prick in his arm, and within seconds the dizziness became overwhelming.

He felt himself being pushed and pulled into the driver’s seat… then everything went dark a second time.

 **Research**

Tony sat at his desk, typing furiously into his computer, scanning websites. It was two days since Gibbs had been taken, and Tony felt more and more sure that time was running out. Abby’s analysis of the syringe’s contents had revealed a cocktail of various muscle relaxants and tranquilizers, enough, as Ducky had put it, ‘to fell a horse.’ There were also traces of Gibbs’ blood on the needle.

The good news had been Ducky’s assertion that the drugs would have knocked Gibbs out for a day or more. If his psychological assessment of Johnson was correct, and the man really did want Gibbs awake and aware for his own death, they had time. But Tony was sure that time would be running out soon.

He glanced at his team. Ziva was making calls to pharmacies in the area, trying to track down where Johnson had gotten the drugs. There was one that looked like a possible lead, a reported break in. Tony could see the lines of stress in her face; she was used to losing people, but Tony could see she was starting to crack, just a little. Looking over to his right, he saw McGee focused on his computer, running models, he’d told Tony earlier, trying to compute statistical likelihoods of where Johnson could have holed up. McGee had perhaps held up the best of all of them besides Ducky… he was watching out for Abby, keeping her grounded, and always seemed to have a new idea of what to try to keep Tony and Ziva going. He always deferred to Tony, though, showing a respect for Tony’s leadership that he hadn’t had when Gibbs had gone to Mexico. _But of course Gibbs wasn’t in danger then._

McGee’s mathematical modeling was a long shot. _So is this_ , Tony thought, glancing at the screen. _They’d send me to the loony bin for sure if they knew what I was researching._ He sighed, closing out the latest website. He thought he had his answers… now to try to act on them.

“Sitrep.”

Startled, Tony looked up to see Vance in front of his desk. He stood, looking over at Ziva and then McGee, who both refocused on their work when they caught Tony’s eye. Tony met Vance’s gaze evenly. “Still working on it, Director.”

Vance narrowed his eyes and stared at Tony for a moment. Then he reached into his jacket pocked and pulled out a toothpick. “Hmph. Seems to me you’ve been working on it to no avail, Agent DiNozzo. In fact, it seems to me that this is the second chance you’ve blown. First was letting Gibbs get grabbed… thought I told you to keep eyes on him twenty four/seven.”

Tony’s jaw clenched. He stared silently at Vance, who stared back.

McGee cleared his throat. “Um… excuse me, Director Vance.”

Vance continued to stare at Tony. “Speak, McGee.”

There was a pause while McGee got up and approached them. Vance looked away from Tony and at the younger agent. “Director… it wasn’t Tony’s fault. He told Gibbs to wait for him; Gibbs chose not to.”

Vance shrugged. “I wonder why. Any chance you were flirting with some girl or playing practical jokes at the scene, DiNozzo?”

McGee started to say something, but Tony beat him to it. “No, Director. I was not doing either of those things. I was processing a crime scene, which you sent us to, knowing Gibbs was a target. I seem to recall you wanted Gibbs to play bait. Well, congratulations, _sir_ … it worked.”

Vance’s eyes widened, then narrowed. He started to speak, but Tony cut him off. “I’m tired of you assuming I do nothing but goof off. Would I be on Gibbs’ team after all these years if I couldn’t do the job? You want to blame me for Gibbs getting kidnapped, you want to force me out to Seattle… well, you can have my resignation instead. _After_ we find Gibbs. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do.” He reached into his desk, pulling out his gun and badge, then moved out from behind it, ignoring Vance’s furious chewing on his toothpick. “Ziva, McGee, check out the pharmacy that had the break-in. I’ll be in touch… gonna go follow up on a hunch.”

He turned, tilting his head at Vance. “Director,” he nodded formally before heading to the elevator.

A short time later, Tony pulled his car into Gibbs’ driveway. He headed directly for the basement, going straight to the drawer that held Shannon’s picture. He pulled it out and looked at it for a moment, before raising his head and looking around the empty room. “Shannon?” he called out. He waited a moment, then called again. “Shannon!”

Silence.

 _Come on… come on, you have to be here._

“Shannon!”

 _Damn. I knew this was a long shot… but we’re almost out of options._ Tony paced around the basement, wondering what his next move would be.

 _Tony?_

Tony’s head came up and he looked around. “Shannon? Thank God.”

 _Tony, what’s wrong?_

“It’s Gibbs… Jethro. He’s disappeared. Got taken by that creepy guy I told you about. We can’t find him, and I’m worried that time’s running out. I need your help.”

 _You said he was locked up, that Jethro was safe._

Tony grimaced. “I know. He was. But there was an accident, and he got away, and then he ambushed Jethro at a crime scene. That was two days ago.”

 _I see. Poor Jethro. He never was very good at taking care of himself._ She sounded sad and slightly exasperated. _But I don’t understand… what can_ I _do?_

Tony shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve been doing a lot of reading online… about ghosts. Sorry.”

 _Don’t be silly, Tony. It’s sort of obvious what I am. Keep going._

“Well… a lot of these sites, they say that ghosts are attached to places or people. And I got to thinking… if you’re attached to Jethro, you could find him. You could go to him, then tell me how to get there.”

 _I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m attached to him or not._

“Are you stuck here, in the basement?”

 _No… no, I’m not always here. But I can’t tell you where else I go… it’s not allowed._

“Okay. Could you try?”

 _I… yes, I guess I could. But I don’t know if it will work, Tony. I’ve never tried to find him anywhere but here before._

“All I ask is that you try.”

 _Of course, Tony. Wait here._

Tony sat on the floor next to the workbench, and waited.

 **Trapped**

Gibbs was alert as soon as he registered that his hands were tied. He kept his eyes closed, feigning sleep, while he listened. He didn’t hear anything, so he opened his eyes.

He was in the driver’s seat of the Hummer; from what he could see in the low light, the car was parked in an abandoned warehouse. To his left, some distance away, he could see a cot and some blankets, along with a chair and what looked like a camping stove. An old, beige Ford was parked nearby. There wasn’t much to his right; the car was parked close to a wall. There was no sign of Johnson anywhere.

Gibbs’ mind was clear now. He had no idea how long he’d been out of it; whatever drugs Johnson had given him had worked really well. His mouth felt dry, and he guessed he was a bit dehydrated. _So much the better… doubt I’ll get a bathroom break any time soon._

He took stock of his situation. His wrists were crossed and tied together, then tied to the top of the steering wheel. He had no idea why Johnson had chosen to use thick rope instead of the handcuffs Gibbs had been carrying at the crime scene, but he wasn’t going to worry about it much. _First mistake, using rope._

Each leg was also bound, tied to the runners the seat was attached to. His range of motion was severely limited, but he found he could twist his wrists just a little bit. He grimaced, knowing how raw and painful his skin would be later, but he was sure it would be better than the alternative. Listening for any hint of Johnson returning, he set to work, twisting his wrists slowly, alternating from one to the other, feeling that little bit of give in the rope. If he could get his hands lose, he could check for the concealed knife in his belt. If Johnson hadn’t found it, he’d be able to cut himself lose eventually; if Johnson had found it, he’d get his hands free but camouflage that fact until Johnson was in range; Gibbs wasn’t so far removed from active duty that he’d forgotten how to break a man’s neck. Gibbs let his thoughts drift while he worked and listened, remembering as much as he could about what had happened.

 _Tony’s going to be incredibly pissed at me… as soon as he gets over being worried._

Gibbs worked slowly, deliberately, shifting his arms and wrists to feel for where they could give. He had a bit more play in his right hand; moving as best he could to get a better view, he peered at the rope to see how it was tied. The knots looked secure, but a twisting motion in the right direction would eventually loosen things enough to get his right hand free. _Thank God Johnson was never a boy scout._

He worked at it a little bit longer; his wrist was already starting to feel raw. He froze when he heard the sound of a door sliding open and then closed. Moving his wrists to camouflage the play in the rope, he turned his head to see Johnson walking toward him; he held a nasty-looking serrated knife in his hand.

Gibbs stayed silent, staring directly at Johnson as the man approached. His captor gave him a warm smile when he got near, opening the door of the car and reaching in to check the ropes, pulling them tight as he did. Gibbs didn’t react. Johnson pulled his arm back and looked at Gibbs for a moment, then reached out to caress the side of Gibbs’ face. Gibbs continued to give him a cold and direct stare, forcing himself not to flinch away. _Not gonna give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing me uncomfortable._ He was trying very hard not to remember what Ducky had told him about the element of sexual attraction in Johnson’s interest in him.

“What do you think of my masterpiece, Agent Gibbs?” Johnson asked in a soft voice, dropping his arm. “I think it suits you very well.”

“I don’t know,” Gibbs replied dryly. “Can’t see it all from here.”

Johnson gave him a delighted grin. “I do like your sense of humor, Agent Gibbs. Shall I take a picture to show you?”

Gibbs shrugged. “I can wait for the movie to come out.”

Johnson’s smile faded a bit. “I will thank you not to disparage my work, Agent Gibbs. It took a lot of planning to get you here.”

Gibbs tilted his head a bit. “How did you know that I would be at that crime scene?”

Johnson smiled wider. “I didn’t. I thought it would take longer to draw you to me… I was very pleasantly surprised to see you at my first kill.”

Gibbs felt cold inside at that. “You killed her on the off chance that I’d be investigating the crime?”

“Not such a remote chance as all that, was it? After all… here you are.” Johnson looked meaningfully around the warehouse, then turned back to Gibbs. He reached toward Gibbs again; this time Gibbs did pull away, too disgusted by Johnson’s revelation to stop himself. Johnson frowned and dropped his hand.

The two men stared at each other, and then Gibbs spoke up. “My team will track you down. It’s only a matter of time.”

Johnson’s smile was more a baring of teeth. “Time they won’t have, Agent Gibbs.”

Gibbs ignored the cold feeling in his gut. “You did say time would be an element in my piece.”

Johnson nodded. “And so it will. The others died quickly; you won’t. But I have learned how to cover my tracks; they won’t find us before my work is finished.”

“Art isn’t of any use if no one sees it.”

“Very astute, Agent Gibbs. Once we’re done here, I will send that very annoying man on your team information with your location. Perhaps I will kill him when he arrives… but not until after he has the opportunity to feel the impact of my work.” His gaze turned malicious. “Perhaps that will give you something to think about over the next several hours.”

Johnson actually stepped back from the glare Gibbs directed at him. His face twisted into an ugly expression as he realized what he’d done. He reached into the car, once again grabbing Gibbs’ hair, pulling his head back. He brought he knife he’d been holding up to Gibbs’ neck.

“Got a thing for this, don’t ya?” Gibbs asked through gritted teeth, remembering what Johnson had done when Gibbs had still been in the trunk of the car.

Johnson didn’t reply; he simply drew the blade of the knife along Gibbs’ neck, forming a shallow cut about three inches long. Gibbs couldn’t quite stop the small hiss of pain that escaped his mouth. He could feel the blood running down the side of his neck and into his shirt.

Johnson kept his hold on Gibbs’ hair while he moved the knife several times, cutting through Gibbs’ clothes and into his skin, making more shallow cuts on his upper arm, across his chest, and on his thigh. He then let go of Gibbs and moved around the front of the car to the other side, opening the door and grabbing Gibbs by the hair again, although Gibbs made him work for it a little. Johnson repeated the process, making more cuts in approximately the same areas on Gibbs’ other side, gripping his hair the entire time. When he was done, he let go, backed up and closed the door, coming back around to the other side.

Gibbs was breathing heavily through his nose, his mouth clenched tightly shut as he rode out the pain. Johnson looked at him for a moment, then reached out to stroke his cheek again. He dropped his hand after a few seconds. “There you go, Agent Gibbs. That was the first. Next time the cuts will be deeper and there will be more of them. I’m interested to see how many you can take before you bleed to death.” There was a pause, then Johnson reached out one more time, again fisting his hand in Gibbs’ hair and forcing Gibbs to meet his eyes. “I’ll leave your face alone so your lover can recognize you later.” He let go, backed up, and closed the drivers’ side door. He walked over to the little campsite he had set up, laid the bloody knife on the ground next to the cot, then walked to the door and left, sliding it shut behind him.

Gibbs let his head fall back for a moment and concentrated on the breathing exercises he used to use to calm himself when he was a sniper. He managed to get the pain to fade a bit into the background, then looked down at himself to see his clothes getting soaked in blood. The cuts were shallow but still deep and long enough to keep bleeding for a while. _I don’t think it’s going to take as long to bleed out as he thinks it will._ He kept his breathing even, quelling the first stirrings of real fear. He rubbed the back of his head against the head rest, trying to get rid of the feel of Johnson’s fingers. _I get out of here, I’m cutting my hair even shorter. Don’t care what Tony thinks._

 _Damn._

 _Tony._

 _Tony… I’m sorry._

Gibbs remained unmoving for a little while, trying to give the cuts a chance to stop bleeding and trying to quell the emotions threatening to escape as he thought about Tony and everything that had happened over the past two weeks, from that first conversation after Dana’s death to a few nights ago when Gibbs’ emotional reaction to Tony’s love-making had proven this new relationship to be just as important as what he’d shared with Shannon. _If I get out of here, I’ll make sure he knows that._

Blinking moisture out of his eyes, Gibbs tested the rope around his wrists again. Johnson’s efforts to pull the rope tighter hadn’t really worked; there was just as much give in the rope now as there had been when Johnson had first shown up. He set back to work, twisting his right wrist again, not caring if the rope tightened around his left… if he could just get one hand free before Johnson returned, he’d stand a good chance of getting out of this alive.

He kept at it for a long time, to the point where his wrist was more than just rubbed raw; it was bleeding fairly obviously. That gave him an increased sense of urgency… he had to get free now, before Johnson came back, because there was no way his captor wouldn’t notice the damage. If Johnson was able to replace the rope with handcuffs, or otherwise secure his hands…

Gibbs’ train of thought was interrupted by a sense of presence. For a moment he had a sinking feeling that he’d missed hearing the door open and Johnson was back, but a quick check showed him that wasn’t the case. The feeling grew stronger, and he strained his eyes to look into the far corners of the warehouse, wondering who was there. _Too much to hope that it’s Tony._

Gibbs shifted around as best he could, and then the sense of presence grew much stronger; he could swear there was someone sitting next to him in the car, but there was nothing there.

 _Jethro?! Oh God, Jethro… what’s happened to you?_

Shocked, Gibbs blurted out, “Shannon?!”


	29. Resolution

**Ghost in the Machine**

Gibbs stared at the empty seat next to him, unable for a moment to form a coherent thought.

 _God, Jethro… what has he done to you?_

Blinking rapidly at the sound of tears in Shannon’s voice, Gibbs forced himself to focus. “I’m okay, Shan. He cut me up a bit, but it’s all superficial.”

 _Doesn’t look it._

The pure skepticism in her voice made him smile. He’d heard that so many times, and so many times he’d deflected with a grin and a kiss… and she’d let him get away with it. “How did you find me?”

 _I don’t really know. After Tony came to talk to me –_

“Tony?! Where is he?”

 _In the basement, waiting for me to come back. I guess they couldn’t find you, and he thought maybe I could._

“What… how?”

 _He said he did some research on ghosts. He thought I might be attached to you, and could find you and tell him where you are. I didn’t know if it would work, but I thought about you, and then here I was._

Gibbs’ mind was working fast. “Can you get enough information about the area to take back to him?”

There was a pause. _I think so. It won’t be easy, but I can do it._

“Atta girl.” Gibbs grinned, then the smile faded as he realized what he’d said. He’d said it to her once, when they were dating, and she’d gotten annoyed with him for patronizing her. He’d apologized profusely, and then it had become a joke between them. He’d whispered it in her ear when she said ‘yes’ when he proposed, then again after she’d said ‘I do’ when they married. He’d said it when Kelly was placed in their arms for the first time. He cleared his throat. “How is Kelly?” he asked.

 _She’s fine, and if you don’t focus on getting out of here, I’ll find a way to head slap you._

Gibbs glanced toward the door through which Johnson had gone, and started working at the rope, twisting and pulling with his wrist, hissing a bit as the pain from the injured skin flared up. He paused for a moment and glanced at the empty seat. “Can you help?”

 _I wish I could. I’ve never managed to move anything physically here. I tried once, when one of those exes hit you with the golf club, but I couldn’t do it._

Gibbs nodded, and went back to working on the rope. It was almost loose enough to squeeze his hands through. “That’s okay. What you’ve already done is more than enough.”

 _I should get the information Tony needs and go back… but I don’t want to leave you. What if the man who did this comes back?_

Gibbs managed to pull his hands free. He sat back for a moment, flexing his fingers. Johnson had tied his wrists together, but left a fair amount of length between them. Gibbs exhaled loudly… and hoped his knife was still concealed in his belt. He reached down and slipped his fingers behind his belt.

The knife was still there.

Within moments, he had his wrists freed and had cut through the ropes binding his legs. He looked over to the empty seat. “I think I’ve got it covered, Shan.”

 _You always did like to be in charge, Jethro._ She sounded both relieved and amused. _I’ll go back now. I think Tony will be here soon._

Gibbs hesitated, then said, “Shan… I love you.”

 _I love you, Jethro._

“And… I also love Tony. Maybe not quite in the same way, but – maybe just as much.”

 _I know that, silly. If you’re worried that I’m upset about you and Tony, you need to give yourself a head slap. Didn’t I say that you should go after him?_

Gibbs smiled slightly. He could just picture her slightly puzzled, mostly exasperated expression. She’d looked like that a lot when they first started dating. “Yeah, you did. And I did.”

 _So what’s the problem? It’s a rule, you know… I forget the number, but it goes like this: Jethro should be happy. You’ve been breaking that one for a long time now._

“I’ll try to stop.”

 _You do that. See you back in the basement, Jethro._

“Shannon – wait.”

 _What is it, Jeth?_

“Shan… just in case something goes wrong… tell Tony –“ he paused, trying to find the words. “Tell Tony about what I just told you. And… tell him I’m sorry. For not getting out, and for not waiting for him back at the scene.”

 _Tell him yourself when you see him._

The sense of her presence disappeared.

Gibbs closed his eyes and sat back for a moment. He missed her terribly, but he was glad she wouldn’t be there if Johnson did come back and managed to get the upper hand. He’d done a good job of covering up how weak he felt after the drugs and the lack of food and water, and the blood loss. He wasn’t entirely certain he had it all as under control as he’d implied to Shannon. _I need a plan. Now._

He opened his eyes and looked around. He didn’t think he’d manage to get far if he tried to leave the warehouse, and he didn’t want to expend all his remaining energy trying to escape only to fail and end up back in the damn car. He’d rather save it for a fight. He saw a group of old oil drums and crates sitting off to one side, not too far from Johnson’s makeshift campsite. There were other potential hiding places; stacks of boxes, the other car…

He opened the door and slid out of the Hummer, almost falling when his legs trembled as he stood. He took some deep breaths, leaning against the car and flexing his legs until he felt a bit better. He shut the car door, then set out carefully to the warehouse exit; it wasn’t locked. He opened it just a bit, then left that way and headed to a pile of boxes near the Hummer. He moved a few, just a bit, trying to make them look as if he’d crashed into them on his way to the door; if Johnson was observant, he’d notice the change. Then he moved to the campsite and rummaged through a duffle bag sitting next to the cot. He came up with some sort of energy bar. He found another, as well as an unopened water bottle. No phone, unfortunately. He grabbed the knife Johnson had cut him with, and brought it all with him over to the oil drums, settling behind them so that he could look out between them to see what was happening. He replaced his small knife at his belt, kept the larger knife in his hand, ripped open the wrapping around one of the bars with his teeth, and started eating slowly, settling in to wait.

 **Location, Location, Location**

 _Waiting sucks,_ Tony thought.

Tony was pacing through the empty basement. Realistically, he knew it had only been maybe fifteen minutes. He’d tried sitting down when Shannon left, and within moments he felt as though he might vibrate out of his own skin. So he’d resorted to pacing. He knew how many steps it was from one side of the basement to the other, in all directions. He’d even figured out how much smaller to make his steps so he could exactly double the number.

 _What if she can’t find him?_

Tony sucked in a deep breath. _Can’t think like that. She can do it. She has to._

He continued walking. He went in a big circle around the entire basement, counting steps. He realized he’d forgotten exactly where he started, so he picked it up again. A thought occurred to him about halfway around, and he stopped short.

 _What if he decides to give up? What if he wants to be with Shannon and Kelly, and this is his chance?_

He sat down on the floor. “It would make sense,” he said softly, out loud. “He was happy with his family. He could be with them again. I couldn’t blame him for that.”

 _Well, I could. Don’t be so ridiculous._

“Shannon! “ Tony leapt to his feet. “Did you find him?”

 _Yes, I did._ Her voice sounded faint.

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

 _It was… it was just really difficult to be outside in the sun, trying to get the location. I’m not really supposed to do that. Sort of sapped my energy a bit. But I’m alright. You need to get to Jethro quickly, Tony. He’s cut himself loose, but he’s lost a fair amount of blood. He was pretending he wasn’t feeling it, but I could see that he was. His hands were shaking._

Tony grimaced. Gibbs’ hands were always steady. “What did that bastard do to him?”

 _He… he sliced Jethro up, Tony. Lots of cuts, in lots of places._

Tony swore loudly. “What can you tell me about his location?”

 _He’s in a warehouse, near the river. I counted five different buildings… the whole area seemed abandoned. There’s an airfield nearby… I saw a small plane going in to land. There was a sign on the building where Jethro was…. it said ‘Hatfield and Company’ on it._ Shannon’s voice sounded even weaker.

Tony pulled out his phone and hit a few buttons. “McGee! I need you to track down a warehouse location… Hatfield and Company, abandoned. It’s near a small airport, by a river. Call me back as soon as you find it.”

He snapped the phone shut and looked around. “Shannon, are you sure you’re alright?”

Her laugh sounded distant. _I’m a ghost, Tony – remember? I’ll be fine. You go help Jethro._

“I will, as soon as McGee calls back with the location.”

 _Tony… tell Jethro I might not be back for a while. It takes energy to be here, and I’ve used a lot of it up finding him._

“Are you, ah… are you going to be in trouble?”

She laughed again. _Of course not. I just need time on the other side. Tell Jethro we’re rooting for him. And Tony… it didn’t even occur to him to let himself die so we could be together again. If it had, I’d head slap him for it._

Tony was quiet for a moment. “Does that bother you? That he didn’t consider being with you, I mean?”

 _Absolutely not. He did think about it, a long time ago, and I’d have head slapped him then too. He needs to live his life, Tony. He’s not done yet, not by a long shot. Besides… he’d be a pain in the ass to live with._

“He would? Why?”

 _Because he’d be missing you too much, silly._ There was a pause, and then Shannon spoke again. _Tony, he asked me to tell you he’s sorry for not waiting for you at the scene… do me a favor?_

“If I can.”

 _Don’t push him away for being an idiot._

Tony snorted. “Can I at least give him hell for being a stubborn, impatient bastard?”

 _Be my guest. Bye, Tony._

Her voice was so faint he could barely hear her. He took just a moment to contemplate the fact that he’d gotten used to talking to a ghost, and then the phone rang. He flipped it open and started running for the stairs. “Got that location for me, McTracker?”

 **Retribution**

Gibbs didn’t know how long he’d been sitting behind the crates and oil drums. He felt much better for having eaten the energy bars and drunk some water, but he’d still zoned out a bit. He tried to think about Shannon, and Tony, but he had trouble focusing and finally let his mind drift a bit, much like he had as a sniper while waiting for his target. He’d perfected the art of letting his mind wander while keeping his senses focused on the area, so that he could snap into full alertness any time.

He heard a noise, and looked up through a gap between drums to see Johnson coming through the door, looking around warily.

“No…. no, no, no…” Johnson ran to the Hummer, flinging the door open and practically diving into the car. _Like I’d stay in there_ , Gibbs thought derisively. He held Johnson’s long knife in his right hand, his own smaller knife in his left. He shifted a bit, getting into a crouch that would give him more leverage should Johnson approach his hiding place. He watched as Johnson backed out of the car and looked around wildly, then headed back to the door, running out.

Gibbs listened, but heard nothing. He waited a few more minutes, and then Johnson slammed back into the warehouse, cursing and running to his campsite. He looked around the floor and into the bag, letting out a frustrated snarl when he saw the knife missing. “Where the hell is he?! He’s ruining everything!” He reached under the pillow on his cot and pulled out another knife, twin to the one Gibbs held. Gibbs cursed himself for not having searched more thoroughly.

He watched as Johnson paced around the warehouse, muttering to himself. “Think! Think, Paul. You haven’t lost one yet… this is your masterpiece, this is the culmination of all the hard work… you can’t let him get away.” He stopped suddenly. “Maybe he didn’t. The drugs, no food, the cuts… he can’t have gone too far. He could still be here.”

Gibbs cursed mentally and got himself ready… he doubted Johnson was much of a fighter, but he could get a lucky slash or two in, and Gibbs was sure he himself wasn’t up to his usual standard. He watched as Johnson went back to his cot and pulled out a little box from under the mattress. He opened it and removed a syringe. _Things just got a little more complicated_ , Gibbs thought, remembering how Johnson had managed to inject the drugs back at the crime scene.

He shifted over a bit as Johnson started hunting for him, looking behind crates and boxes and in the Ford. He watched as Johnson came up empty and looked around the warehouse, his gaze falling on Gibbs’ hiding place. He started to move purposefully in that direction. _Here we go._

Gibbs got his legs just a little bit more underneath him, and waited until Johnson was just about the round the corner of the oil drums. Knife ready, he launched himself at Johnson’s legs, throwing the man off balance and sending the syringe flying off into a darkened area near the wall. _That’s something, anyway._ He slashed out with the knife, catching Johnson across the arm and side, causing the man to howl in pain and scrabble away. Rather than press forward, Gibbs backed off, waiting to have Johnson come to him. He watched the way Johnson held the knife as he got back to his feet; the man clearly wasn’t much better with a knife than he was at tying knots.

Johnson looked at the blood running down his arm, then over at Gibbs. “Are you crazy?! Look what you’ve done!”

Gibbs stared at him incredulously, then decided not to respond.

Johnson glared at him. “Get back in the car.”

Gibbs couldn’t help himself; he started to laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding. I’d do that why, exactly?”

Johnson made an impatient sound and started to move toward him. “I thought you understood, about my art.”

“Oh, I understand, all right. Your art is supposed to be about getting back at your cousins… but all you’ve done is make yourself a lot worse then they were.”

Johnson’s face turned red. “How can you possibly say that?! I’ll make you pay now. Once you’re back in the car, you’ll know what it’s like to feel helpless and in pain.”

“Been there, done that,” Gibbs commented. “Not really interested in a repeat.”

Johnson ran at him, faster than Gibbs had expected. Gibbs got in another good slashing blow, but Johnson caught him in the side with his knife. It went in deep; Gibbs staggered a bit, then recovered his balance, backing away. Johnson was limping badly; Gibbs had hit him on his upper leg.

Johnson’s face twisted into an ugly expression, and he raised his knife, moving toward Gibbs. Gibbs felt the blood running down his left side and onto his leg, and realized it was a really bad wound. His vision swam just a bit and he almost lost his balance again. He tried to stay focused on Johnson, but he could feel his legs starting to give out. He had to make the next attack count.

“NCIS! Freeze, Johnson!”

Gibbs didn’t think he’d ever heard anything as wonderful as the sound of Tony’s voice.

He kept his eyes on Johnson, who was standing and staring at Tony, slack-jawed, knife now held loosely and dangling at his side.

“Drop it,” Tony snarled. “Now. Or don’t and I’ll shoot you. Your choice.”

Johnson shook his head. “You can’t. You’re ruining everything.”

Tony raised the gun just a little bit higher. Johnson dropped the knife.

“Face down on the ground, hands on the back of your head. Do it!” Tony barked out the last command, and Johnson complied. Tony took one hand off his gun and reached for his cuffs, shooting a quick glance at Gibbs.

“You okay, Boss?”

Gibbs nodded, or at least he thought he did. Things were getting really fuzzy. He felt himself falling, heard rather then felt the knives fall from his hands and hit the ground.

“Jethro!”

Then Tony was there, and Gibbs was propped up against him. “Aw, hell, Jeth. You’re a mess.” Tony sounded worried. Gibbs wanted to reassure him that he was fine, but he couldn’t seem to muster up the energy to do it. He just leaned his head back against Tony and smiled a bit as he realized how good that felt.

“You’re bleeding badly, but not gushing. You’ll be alright. I saw Johnson coming in here, called it in to McGee. He and Ziva are on their way, and they’ve already called for an ambulance.” Gibbs felt Tony’s arm tighten around him and managed to move his own hand to grab onto that comforting arm. “We’ll get you out of here and home safe soon.”

Johnson looked up at that. “You can’t. You can’t take him, he’s mine.”

Tony laughed, a strangely humorless sound. “Watch me.”

Johnson got to his feet. “No. He’s mine. He belongs to me. I can’t let you destroy my work.” He started to move toward them.

Tony’s gun came up. “Drop to the ground now, or I will shoot you.”

Johnson shook his head stubbornly and kept coming, his eyes on Gibbs, that disturbing hungry look in them again. Still several yards away, he reached out toward Gibbs.

Tony fired. One shot, one hole on Johnson’s chest, one spray of blood. Then another, only a couple of inches away from the first.

Johnson staggered back, staring at them both, an uncomprehending look on his face. Then his expression went blank, and he fell back, hitting the ground hard, eyes staring sightlessly up at the ceiling.

Gibbs could only think of one word… _safe_.

Tony laid his gun down on the ground, then wrapped both arms around Gibbs, holding him tightly, burying his face in Gibbs’ neck. “Jethro,” he whispered. Gibbs managed to raise his left arm up to run his fingers through Tony’s hair. He felt a bit of pain against his side, and realized Tony had shifted his own leg over to press against the knife wound, putting pressure on it, slowing the bleeding. He felt Tony press a kiss against his neck, then felt Tony’s body begin to shake a bit, and something wet falling onto his skin.

They were still holding on to each other when Ziva and McGee came in with the paramedics a few minutes later, Gibbs still gripping Tony’s arm tightly despite having passed out.


	30. Aftermath

**Waking Up**

Gibbs swam slowly to consciousness. For just a moment his light-headedness made him think he was still in the warehouse, but the sounds and smells quickly told him otherwise. _Hospital_. Internal inventory told him his side hurt. _Knife wound. Johnson. Tony shot him._

He opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the light. His vision focused, and he saw the usual hospital ceiling and the usual old hospital television. He turned his head, and saw Tony in the chair next to the bed, fast asleep, his head tilted to the side. Gibbs took the opportunity to just gaze at the man. Lines of stress were clear around his eyes and muscles were jumping and twitching in his face and in his fingers. One of his arms jerked suddenly, and a distressed sound escaped from his throat. _Nightmare_. Gibbs’ brow furrowed and he reached out to Tony, startling as Tony sat up suddenly, eyes wide. “Jethro!”

Gibbs reached out again, gripping Tony’s hand as the younger man looked frantically around the room and settled in his direction. “Right here, Tony.”

Tony exhaled slowly, then slumped back in his chair, squeezing Gibbs’ hand for a moment before releasing it and reaching up to rub his face.

“You okay?” Gibbs asked.

Tony sighed and nodded, dropping his hands to his knees and looking at the wall above Gibbs’ head. “Nightmare. Was back in the warehouse… went over to the car. You were in it…” Tony’s voice trailed off, and he looked Gibbs in the eye. “You were covered in blood. Dead. I was too late.”

Gibbs reached out to touch Tony’s hand, resting his fingers on it for a moment before bringing his arm back to the bed, sitting forward a bit. “You weren’t too late, Tony. You got there. I’m fine.”

Tony looked at him and gave him a half smile. “Fine, huh?”

Gibbs nodded once. “Yeah.”

“You sure?”

Gibbs shot Tony a look. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Good.” Tony sat forward, raised his arm, and gave Gibbs one hell of a head-slap, actually rocking Gibbs’ head forward.

“Hey!” Gibbs reached up to rub the back of his head. “What the hell, DiNozzo?!”

Tony gave Gibbs a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “That was for not waiting for me back at the crime scene. Don’t worry, I checked with the doctors, made sure there was no sign of a head injury.”

Gibbs glared at Tony and caught sight of Ducky walking in to the room. “Ah, Jethro, you’re awake. And I see Anthony beat me to it.”

Gibbs stared at Ducky. “You wouldn’t…”

“I would indeed, my friend. It would appear that your sense of self-preservation is severely lacking.” Ducky reached over to grab his wrist and take his pulse. Tony looked at Gibbs and smirked. Gibbs just glared some more.

Ducky glanced over at Tony. “I need a few moments alone with Jethro, if you don’t mind, Tony. I’m sure the others would appreciate knowing he’s awake.”

Tony looked over at Gibbs, who looked back at him, trying to read his expression. For once, though, Tony wasn’t letting Gibbs in. Then Tony glanced at Ducky and nodded. “Alright, Ducky. I’ll see you later.” He left without looking back at Gibbs, who stared after him, disconcerted.

Ducky sat in the seat Tony had vacated and observed Gibbs. When Gibbs moved his gaze from the door to Ducky, the doctor spoke. “He is extremely angry with you, Jethro. You have some work ahead of you to fix things with that young man.”

Gibbs sat back and sighed heavily. “I know, Duck.”

Ducky nodded, satisfied with that acknowledgment. Then he leaned forward. “How are you feeling, really?”

Gibbs shrugged. “Tired. Sore.”

“Yes, well, they had to do some surgery to repair that nasty wound in your side. The knife went through a few layers of muscle, but thankfully missed your digestive tract. A week or two of recuperation and you should be fine. The rest of the wounds were relatively superficial, and just needed a few stitches.” Ducky paused to clear his throat. “I do have to ask, Jethro…“ He shifted uncomfortably.

Gibbs just looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

Ducky sighed. “You are going to make this difficult, aren’t you?”

Gibbs waited.

Ducky shook his head. “You know that Johnson’s interest in you was more than just as a subject for what he called his art. As your doctor and as your friend, Jethro, I have to ask… did he assault you sexually?”

Gibbs shook his head slowly. “No, Duck, I don’t think so.”

It was Ducky’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean, you don’t think so, Jethro?”

Gibbs shrugged. “I was pretty out of it for a while.”

“Yes, you were heavily drugged. So everything feels –“

“I’m okay, Duck.”

Ducky sat back and looked at his friend for a moment. Then he nodded. “Alright.” His gaze sharpened. “But if you start experiencing any psychological effects…”

“I’ll be fine, Ducky.”

The medical examiner sighed heavily. “I am glad you are alright, my friend. We were all very worried.”

Gibbs looked down at the light blanket covering him and nodded. “I know,” he said quietly.

Ducky got to his feet. “Can I send the others in to see you? They’ve been waiting a long time.”

Gibbs sighed and nodded.

 **Waiting Room**

Tony’s emotions were all over the place as he went down the hall toward the waiting room. He was so happy to see Gibbs awake, yet he was incredibly angry with him at the same time. That head slap had helped, but it wasn’t enough.

He took a deep breath as he paused at the door. Abby, Ziva and McGee were talking quietly. When the nurse had said one visitor could wait with Gibbs, they’d all insisted that Tony be the one to go. Despite what he knew was his cold attitude toward Gibbs, he really hadn’t wanted to leave. And now he’d have to wait for the others to visit before he could go back in. He laughed at his inner conflict a little, then walked in.

“He’s awake.”

They all jumped to their feet. Abby, of course, was the first to start asking questions. “Is he alright? Is he in pain? Can we see him?”

Tony smiled at her. “Ducky asked for a few minutes alone with him… I think you can go see him as soon as he’s done.” He moved closer to them and slouched into one of the chairs, rubbing his hands over his face. They gathered around him, Abby sitting next to him and hugging his arm.

“Are you okay, Tony?”

He nodded. “Yeah, Abs.”

Ziva and McGee looked at each other, then at Tony. McGee sat down on his other side. “Hey, Tony… you never did tell us how you knew to go to that warehouse.”

Tony shrugged. “Got a call on the BOLO from a friend of mine, local LEO. Said he’d gotten a report of a black Hummer pulling into the warehouse. Figured it was the first real lead we had and we’d better check it out.”

McGee frowned. “Why did you need me to find the location if the LEOs had it?”

Tony shot him an irritated look. Abby reached out and smacked McGee on the arm. “Leave him alone, Tim! Can’t you see that he’s traumatized?”

Tony rolled his eyes. McGee sighed. “Sorry, Tony. I guess we were all on edge. It was a lucky break.”

Tony sat back and stared at the opposite wall. “Yeah. Real lucky. If I hadn’t gotten there when I did… it was too close,” he whispered.

Abby hugged his arm harder. McGee cleared his throat and looked away. Ziva looked at Tony sympathetically. “It may have been close, Tony,” she said, “but it was still in time.” He looked over at her. She crouched down in front of him. “Regardless of your new relationship with Gibbs, you and he are both still federal agents. Being too late is a risk we all take. It is part of the job.”

Tony gave a humorless laugh. “Well, Ziva, in this case it didn’t have to be a risk. If Gibbs had waited for me to back him up, Johnson probably wouldn’t have been able to get to him.”

Ziva nodded. “That is true. But it does not change the facts. And those are that you were in time, Gibbs is safe, and Johnson is dead.”

Tony nodded. Ziva smiled at him, and Abby joined in by gripping Tony’s arm even tighter. Tony grimaced. “Losing circulation, Abs.”

“Oh, sorry.”

Ducky walked in. “I’m sure Tony has given you the update; Jethro is up for visitors if you want to go see him.”

The three agents jumped up and headed out the door. Tony watched them go, making no move to follow. He didn’t really want to be on display while he tried to deal with his emotions. Ducky took a seat a couple of chairs away from him.

“Jethro is going to be fine, Anthony.”

“Yeah.”

“What are you going to do?”

Tony shook his head. “I really don’t know, Ducky.”

“I am here if you wish to talk, my boy.”

Tony nodded.

“Well… I should tell you, Director Vance spoke to me as I was leaving to come here. He asked me to tell you that he wants to see you in his office as soon as possible.”

“Thanks, Ducky.” Tony pushed himself to his feet. “Will you stay until I get back?”

“If I can’t, I’m sure Abby will.”

Tony smiled. “Thanks. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Ducky nodded and watched him walk out of the room. He shook his head. “Fools,” he muttered, “both of them.”

 **Meeting With Vance**

Vance’s secretary told Tony to go right in to the office. He walked in to find Vance sitting at his desk, looking through a stack of files.

“You wanted to see me, Director?”

Vance looked up, then tossed his pen onto the desk, nodding toward a chair. Tony sat down, speaking as he did so. “Gibbs is awake. Ducky’s talked to him; the others are probably in with him now. I haven’t had a chance to write my resignation letter yet; if you give me five minutes, I can have it for you.”

Vance sat back in his chair and stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I think I owe you an apology, Agent DiNozzo.”

Tony straightened a bit in his chair, but said nothing.

Vance inclined his head a bit, then continued. “That was good work you did, finding Gibbs. Doesn’t seem like he would have made it if you hadn’t gotten there when you did.”

Tony swallowed and his eyes narrowed a bit, but he said nothing. Vance watched him for a moment, then shifted in his seat. “I spoke with Dr. Mallard not long ago. He said that I misunderstood you. So I went back through your file… approached it as if I were looking at you for the first time.”

He fell silent; Tony finally gave in. “And?”

“And I’m impressed. Dr. Mallard was right. You have a bright future with this agency. The offer for team lead in Seattle still stands.”

Tony cleared his throat and leaned forward a bit. “What about my resignation?”

“Not interested.”

Tony nodded. “And if I want to remain Gibbs’ senior field agent, with an eye toward taking over the MCRT some day?”

Vance reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a toothpick. “I think the position in Seattle is a better move for you. Can’t see Gibbs leaving any time soon.” He put the toothpick in his mouth and started chewing on it.

Tony shrugged. “I still learn from him.”

The toothpick stilled and Vance removed it for a moment. “Seems to me the learning curve could improve if you had your own team.”

Tony shrugged. “I’m not sure it’s what I want right now.” He looked Vance in the eye. “I’d like more time to think about it. Haven’t been able to over the past few days, and I believe I remember you telling me to shelve it for now.”

Vance nodded. “Finding Gibbs was top priority. I can give you until the end of the month. Take a few days off, clear your head.”

Tony nodded and stood. “End of the month, I’ll let you know. Seattle, D.C., or resign.”

Vance’s eyebrows rose. “Told you I’m not interested in your resignation.”

Tony took a deep breath. “With all due respect, Director, it’s not really about you.”

Vance stared at him for a moment, then to Tony’s surprise he laughed. “Alright, Agent DiNozzo. Have to say, you stay here on the MCRT after Gibbs retires, things won’t seem much different.”

Tony grinned. “Director, that’s the first real compliment you’ve ever given me.”

Vance shook his head as he watched Tony walk out, then turned back to the files, trying to find some rookies who could stand up to both DiNozzo and Gibbs. _Thorns in my side, both of ‘em,_ he thought, smiling a little.

 **Wake Up Call**

Gibbs listened to Abby argue with Ziva about setting up a rotation to stay with him once he was released from the hospital. Ziva was sure Tony would take time off and be there around the clock, while Abby thought Tony would have to go to work at some point, so they should be prepared to fill in. McGee had tried to contribute at first, agreeing with Ziva, but was now wisely staying out of it.

Gibbs just hoped Tony would be willing to spend any time with him at all.

Eventually he really couldn’t take it anymore; he pointed out that they should probably be getting back to work. McGee and Ziva got up to leave, but Abby put on her determined face. “I’m staying, Gibbs. At least until Tony gets back.”

Gibbs decided he really didn’t have the strength to argue, and he didn’t feel like pointing out that maybe Tony wouldn’t be coming back. “Okay, Abs.”

Abby sat up straight and smiled, obviously pleasantly surprised. She grabbed McGee’s arm as he moved past her. “Tell Ducky I’m staying until Tony gets here.” McGee nodded, waved to Gibbs, and then he and Abby were alone.

“Where did DiNozzo go?”

Abby moved to sit on the bed next to Gibbs. “Vance wanted to see him. He told Ducky he would be back as soon as possible.”

That made Gibbs feel a little better. _Maybe I didn’t screw everything up._

Abby sat there, staring at Gibbs, working her lower lip between her teeth. Then she punched him in the arm.

“Abby!”

“Gibbs!”

“Cut up by a serial killer, remember?”

“It’s all I could think about for the past several days, Gibbs! Of course I remember!”

“Well, if you have to hit me, do it where I haven’t been knifed, okay?”

Abby pouted. Gibbs sighed. “What is it, Ab?”

“You need to fix things with Tony, Gibbs.”

Gibbs shot her a disgruntled look. “I know, Abby.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think you do. He’s barely slept since you disappeared, and when he did, he had nightmares. He told me about them. Always the same, that he finds you in the front seat of a car, dead. They were pretty graphic dreams, too. You didn’t have an easy death in any of them.”

Gibbs reached out and took her hand. “I’m going to apologize to him.”

Abby tilted her head to one side. “That would be a good start. But the apology won’t mean anything if you don’t try to do things differently.”

Gibbs shook his head. “Abby –“

“No, Gibbs! You listen to me. We all know you’re driven, and impatient, and a bastard. Well, except to me… you’re almost never a bastard to me. And I’m guessing you’re not a bastard to Tony much outside of work, ‘cause otherwise how would he be able to deal with you? I mean, it can’t be easy, you know? Do you know? Are you ever a bastard to yourself? Is that even possible? To do it consciously, I mean. I don’t know if –“

“Abby.” Gibbs reached out and placed a finger over her lips.

She smiled at him, then turned serious. “He loves you. Really loves you. As in, doesn’t want you to be anything other than what you are. So he knows you’re an impatient bastard who is driven to solve the crimes and puts that first, but next time you have to think a bit.”

Gibbs shifted uncomfortably. It was going to be hard enough to have this talk with Tony… he wasn’t really enjoying the opening act.

Abby looked at him for a moment, then shook her head. “Remember that time when Tony went home early, after he got shaken up by the picture of the guy who drowned in the car?”

Gibbs nodded.

“He told me then that he didn’t think he could be involved with you if you weren’t going to let him be on your six. It was hard for him before you guys got together, and it’s got to be much worse now. He has more to lose, you know.”

“Abby –“

“You have to try, Gibbs! Promise me you’ll try. You guys are too cute together not to.”

A voice came from the doorway. “Not sure cute’s what we’re going for, Abs.”

Abby jumped to her feet. “Tony!!” She ran to him and wrapped him up in a hug. Gibbs watched as Tony buried his face in Abby’s hair and returned the hug. He pulled back after a moment and his eyes met Gibbs’. “Ducky’s waiting to give you a ride back to the Navy Yard, Abby.”

“I was just giving Gibbs a wake-up call, Tony. Are you staying with him?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“And you’re going to fix everything, right? You’re not going to just give up on him.”

“Already owe another lovely lady that favor, so I guess I’ll do my best.” Tony held Gibbs’ gaze as he spoke, and Gibbs’ eyes widened as he realized who Tony was talking about.

Abby was talking as she gathered up her things. “Well, then, you have to fix it all, Tony, or else Ziva will kill you with a paper clip. And I’ll help by removing all the forensic evidence.” She ran back to Gibbs and kissed his cheek. “You, get better. And Tony,” she continued as she headed for the door, “I didn’t bring Bert for Gibbs because I figured you would be here, but I don’t know if that bed’s big enough for both of you, so just call me if you need me to bring him over.”

“Okay, Abs.”

Tony shut the door after she left, then turned and walked over to Gibbs. He stood next to the bed for a moment, and the two men just looked at each other. Then Tony pulled the chair out a bit and sat down.

“Hey, Boss.” He paused for a moment. “We need to talk.”


	31. Figuring It Out

**Abby and Ducky**

Abby sat in the passenger seat of Ducky’s Morgan, watching the buildings go by. It was getting on to early evening; they’d been at the hospital for a long time, waiting for Gibbs to come out of surgery and to wake up. She felt as if she should be talking a mile a minute; she was energized, had been since hitting Gibbs in the arm (and she felt bad about that, really, she wouldn’t have done it if she’d known he’d been cut there), but at the same time she felt as though she needed to think.

She spaced out at the dashboard until she realized Ducky was parking the car. Looking up, she was surprised to see that they weren’t in the parking lot outside NCIS; they were in front of a little coffee shop not far from the Naval Base. She turned to look at Ducky, who was watching her.

“I thought perhaps you could use some tea and conversation, my dear. Was I wrong?”

Abby smiled and shook her head. “You’re a very smart man, Ducky.”

They got out of the car, heading into the shop. Abby claimed a booth in a corner, while Ducky went to the counter and ordered tea for both of them. He joined her a few minutes later, gently placing her cup on the table in front of her.

“Chocolate mint black tea for you, my dear, and Earl Grey for me.” He sat down across from her, removing his hat. He watched as she wrapped her hands around the mug, staring into it. Ducky indulged her for a few minutes, sipping his own tea and observing the other patrons. Eventually he refocused on her, leaning forward and gently tapping her hand. “The benefits of tea are much easier to come by if you drink it, Abigail.”

Abby looked up at him without moving her head, compressing her lips, giving him one of her distressed half-smiles. He tapped her hand a second time; she raised her head and lifted the mug, taking a sip, closing her eyes as she savored the taste and brought the mug back down to the table. Opening her eyes, she gave Ducky a real smile. “How do you do it, Ducky?”

He raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

“You always know exactly what kind of tea I need.”

Ducky smiled. “It’s in the genes, my dear. Now why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you so much? Jethro is going to be just fine.”

Abby’s smile faded. “Only because Tony got lucky, Ducky!” Her lip twitched at the rhyme, but she didn’t go off on a tangent. “If his LEO friend hadn’t called about the BOLO when he did… we almost lost Gibbs!”

“Ah, is that how he knew where to go?”

Abby nodded. “Timmy asked, in the waiting room, while you were with Gibbs. It doesn’t explain why Tony needed Tim to get the address, but I don’t think Tony was in the mood for long explanations.”

“I’m sure it will all be in his report, my dear. Is Jethro’s close call really all that is bothering you?”

Abby sighed. “No, it’s not. I know he’s going to be fine. And ding dong, the witch is dead, you know? Johnson, I mean. I know ‘witch’ is a term most people think applies only to women, but it probably originally referred to men… sorcerers, necromancers, that sort of thing. And why am I telling you about the word? That’s silly, ‘cause you probably know more about it than anyone. You know everything about everything.”

Ducky laughed. “Actually, Abigail, the etymology of the word is up for some debate. But I do believe you are correct. It may have had its origins in Old English; the term ‘witch’ only came to refer almost exclusively to women hundreds of years later. Although… I’m sure that’s not what we really need to discuss, is it?”

Abby took another sip of her tea, then set her mug down again and stared into it. “Do you think Gibbs and Tony will be alright?” she asked in a small voice.

Ducky sighed. “I honestly don’t know. Jethro doesn’t do the leaving, unless the other party has transgressed to a point where they cannot be forgiven. Tony most certainly has not done any such thing. The question, I believe, is whether or not Tony can withstand the emotional upheaval inherent in being involved with Jethro.”

Abby nodded. “I think Gibbs has really been trying to work at it with Tony. And Tony can forgive a lot of things when it comes to Gibbs. But he, Tony, I mean, he told me that he didn’t know if he could be involved with Gibbs if Gibbs wouldn’t let him be on his six… that it would be too emotionally difficult to love him and not be able to protect him. Something like that, anyway… I’m paraphrasing.”

Ducky sat back a bit, head tilted to one side as he considered the problem. “I don’t think Tony is looking for a way out. He gave Jethro an incredibly hard whack to the head when I got there earlier.”

Abby’s eyes widened. “You saw it?”

Ducky chuckled. “Not exactly. But I heard it from the hallway, as well as Jethro’s complaint afterwards. And I did see Jethro glaring at Tony and Tony glaring right back.”

Abby giggled. “Gibbs must have been surprised.”

“I do believe he was. And I don’t see Tony delivering such a punishment if he can only deal with Jethro as his boss, do you?”

Abby thought about that. “Tony would never head slap Gibbs in Boss-mode.”

“Then I suspect Tony intends to work things out with him.”

The worry left Abby’s eyes, and she gave Ducky a brilliant smile. “We should do this more often, Ducky.”

“I would be delighted, my dear girl.”

 **McGee and Ziva**

Ziva kept an eye on McGee from her desk. He’d been unusually quiet once they’d arrived back at the office. Vance had come down to the bullpen to request an update, then informed them that they were all to take a few days off. He had filed the paperwork for them already; they just needed to finish up their reports and they could go. A mass email had gone out from Vance’s office shortly afterward, updating all of NCIS on Gibbs’ condition. John Bennett had stopped by, clearly relieved that his role in distracting Tony at the crime scene hadn’t resulted in a worse outcome. Jimmy Palmer had come up from Autopsy and had hung around for a while, leaving only when Ducky and Abby had returned from the hospital.

Ziva had asked both McGee and Abby if they wanted to grab some dinner, but it turned out Abby had plans to meet up with the little girl she’d taken care of for a few days. Cindy’s father was feeling better and had invited Abby to have dinner with them as a thank you. Abby had put them off until she knew Gibbs was going to be alright; she’d called with an update and had accepted the invitation for that evening. McGee had accepted after teasing Ziva about not having dinner with Larry Johnson; Ziva had finally admitted that she and Larry were going to have dinner together the next night. McGee had smiled and then focused on his report.

They finished up and decided on an Indian restaurant not too far from both their apartments. After swinging by the lab and Autopsy to say goodbye, they headed out to the restaurant. Ziva had a thought as they were going through the menu. “You do not need to take care of your dog?”

McGee shook his head. “Sarah’s been staying at my place to study and take care of him while we’ve been looking for Gibbs.”

Ziva nodded. “She must be almost finished with her Masters’ degree, yes?”

McGee nodded. “She has comp exams, then needs to finish her thesis. She’s applying to several PhD programs, so she could end up moving out of the area.”

“You must be proud of her.”

McGee shot her a quick smile. “Yeah, she’s doing really well. I’m not sure what she intends to do after she gets her doctorate, but she hasn’t really wanted to think long term yet.”

They placed their orders, and Ziva sat back to watch McGee fiddle with the silverware. After a few minutes she leaned forward. “McGee!”

He sat up quickly, startled. “What?!”

“What is wrong with you? You are very quiet. You were not so quiet while we were looking for Gibbs. He will be fine and will be back to kicking our butts soon enough. Why are you so quiet now?”

McGee sighed. “Just… this whole thing. It’s all been kind of, well, disturbing.”

Ziva nodded. “Yes, Paul Johnson was a very sick man. And it is rather strange that he was able to get to Gibbs. Frankly, I was surprised that Gibbs was not able to fight him off easily. I am also not convinced that the story Tony gave us about the BOLO adds up.”

McGee shrugged. “ No way Johnson would have overpowered Gibbs without the drugs. And I agree with you about Tony’s story, but I’m not going to push it with him, at least not right now. I think he’s got enough to deal with. But I didn’t just mean the past couple of days… I’m talking about the past few weeks.”

Ziva frowned. “I thought you were alright with Gibbs and Tony being in a relationship.”

McGee was quick to reassure her. “Oh, I am… don’t worry about that. It’s just… weird. I mean, they really do love each other, don’t they?”

Ziva laughed. “You are only just figuring that out now, McGee?”

McGee smiled. “I knew it, but I didn’t _know_ it, you know?”

Ziva rolled her eyes. “Once again, the nuances of your language astound me. So what makes things different, that you know it now?”

McGee sat back in his chair. “The way they were holding onto each other in that warehouse when we got there. Did you see that Tony had been crying? Tony’s body language when he came into the waiting room… he was just real in a way he usually isn’t. He wasn’t hiding anything. Gibbs’ face when Tony came back to the room. He was so… happy and relieved to see Tony.”

They were both silent while they thought that over. The appetizers were brought to the table, and they began to eat.

Ziva broke the silence. “So you are alright with it. Why then are you so thoughtful?”

McGee glanced up at her. “They’re good for each other. It’s nice to see them both happy. I just think we should try to make sure they stay that way.”

Ziva smiled and raised her glass to McGee, who returned the gesture. “A long term undercover operation, then,” she said.

 **Gibbs and Tony**

 _“Boss, we need to talk.”_

Gibbs looked at Tony for a long moment. Tony just looked back, not giving anything away.

“I never did much like hearing those words from all the ex-wives,” Gibbs said, “but you’re right. We do.”

Tony nodded, but remained silent.

Gibbs dropped his gaze, focusing on the blanket that covered him. “Maybe we should just cut to the chase. Is this switch to ‘Boss’ a permanent thing, Tony?”

Tony sighed and looked around the room for a moment, clearly searching for words. Gibbs watched him, waiting, trying not to assume anything, remembering when he’d thought Tony would take the Seattle job. Finally Tony ran his hand through his hair and sat forward a little, meeting Gibbs’ eyes. “No, it’s not. At least, I don’t want it to be. But I need to understand something.” He just stared at Gibbs then, his eyes shifting over Gibbs’ face.

Gibbs waited as long as he could, but cracked in the end. _Too damn impatient._ “What?”

Tony got to his feet. “I need to understand why. Why you didn’t wait for me. Evidence wasn’t going to walk away. Yeah, the cop was there, but you know I’m better back up. I told you I needed you to let me be on your six… I thought you got that. So – why, Jethro?”

Gibbs shook his head, at a bit of a loss for words. He wasn’t sure how to explain it.

Tony walked around the room, ending up at the opposite side of the bed, staring out the window. He turned around, leaning against the wall, and crossed his arms over his chest. “The past few days were hell, Gibbs. I saw the car leave the woods, and was stuck standing there holding your cap. I broke down in front of McGee. I know you went through hell too… but at least you knew we were looking for you. I didn’t even know where to begin. Everything we tried turned into a dead end. I was running on fumes and had nightmares every time I closed my eyes. I lost track of how many times I saw you dead.”

Tony stopped talking; his eyes were bright and his jaw clenched. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Once he had himself under control, he continued. “I had this thought that we needed a psychic. From psychics I thought of ghosts… and then of Shannon. So I went to your basement and dragged her into this mess. If she hadn’t found you, gotten your location, and gotten back to me when she did… you’d be dead, Gibbs. Or worse. I don’t even know if that bastard….” His voice trailed off, and once again he had to fight to control himself.

Gibbs remembered what Ducky had said about Tony recognizing that Johnson’s interest in him went beyond killing. “He didn’t, Tony. I’m alright.”

Tony looked him in the eyes for a moment, then nodded. “Good.”

Gibbs cracked a bit of a smile. “I sure thought so.”

Tony’s lips twitched a bit. “I’ll ask again, then… why?”

Gibbs tilted his head back, and gazed up at the ceiling, as if the words he needed were written up there. “Tony,” he began, only to be cut off when the door opened and a nurse walked in.

She smiled at him, checked his IV, asked him some questions about his pain level, then turned to Tony. “Visiting hours are almost over,” she said apologetically, “you’ll have to leave in about five minutes.”

Tony straightened up and reached into his pocket, pulling out his badge, which he showed her. “This man is a federal agent under protective custody,” he said, all business. “I’ll be here through the night.”

She looked both impressed and uncertain. “There’s nothing noted on his chart,” she said. “and I heard that the man who attacked you,” she turned to look at Gibbs, “had been killed. It’s also customary for protection details to be stationed outside the room.”

Tony smiled at the nurse. “The man who did this is dead; I shot him myself. He was a master of disguise, though, and we don’t know if his accomplices are still in the area. I need to stay in the room to monitor any activity on your part – nothing personal. A killer could easily be disguised as a nurse, and I wouldn’t be much good if I stayed outside.” Now she looked nervous, but still undecided. Tony reached into his pocket again and pulled out a card. “This is the number for the Director’s office at NCIS. You can call and confirm the protection detail if you need to.”

She looked at the card for a moment, then shook her head and handed it back to him. “It must be fine, and I wouldn’t want to bother your Director. Let me know if you need anything; I’ll alert the rest of the staff.”

Tony grinned at her and glanced at her name tag. “Thank you, Lisa. Appreciate your cooperation.”

Lisa smiled at both of them, then left the room, closing the door behind her.

Gibbs looked approvingly at Tony. “Very smooth.”

Tony grinned. “It was, wasn’t it?” His smile faded as he looked at Gibbs, his expression becoming almost sad. “I kept thinking, these last few days… why you won’t let me be there for you. Would you have been more willing to let me be on your six if I were a Marine?”

Gibbs was startled by that. “No, Tony… it has nothing to do with you not being in the Corps. I trust you as much or more than I have any of the men I’ve served with.”

“Then what?” Tony’s voice was almost plaintive.

Gibbs shook his head. “Tony… I’m not sure I understand it myself. Some of it… I just get driven when we have a case, and I want answers as quickly as possible. I couldn’t see that Johnson would be out there in the middle of nowhere – it never occurred to me that he would have killed someone just to lure me to him.”

“And you just forgot about his ability to disguise himself? The cop really could have been him, you know.”

Gibbs gave Tony an annoyed look. “You really think I wouldn’t recognize him after interrogating him, even if he wore a fake nose or something?”

Tony sighed. “Point.” He pushed off the wall, moving to sit back down in the chair he’d slept in earlier in the day. “Still waiting for a reason, Jethro.”

Gibbs felt the tension in his gut increase. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, especially given the knife wound in his side. “I know, Tony. I _am_ trying.”

Tony sighed and nodded. “I know you are. Take your time… I’m not going anywhere.”

They both sat quietly for a while. Tony just let his mind wander, wishing they weren’t in a hospital, that Gibbs wasn’t hurt, that they could just _be_ for a little while. Gibbs thought about things, trying to understand his own actions and give Tony a real answer. Finally he cleared his throat, looking at Tony, who quickly refocused on him.

“I’ve always been a bit of a loner,” Gibbs began hesitantly. “Caused a lot of friction between me and my dad… he’s practically my opposite when it comes to being social. Shannon was determined to get me to open up to her, and she succeeded. Probably one reason why I loved her so much. With her and Kelly, I was part of a family. In the Corps, I was part of something too, but still tended to be on my own. Became a sniper, went on more than one solitary op. I’m not… not used to relying on other people since Shannon’s been gone. Not in a personal way. So it’s not you, Tony… it’s just who I am.”

Tony nodded. “Alright. I’m not asking you to change who you are, Jeth. But I need you to try to give a little, at least in those dangerous situations where me being there could be the difference between us going home together at night or me going to your funeral.”

Gibbs looked at him and nodded. “I’ll keep trying, Tony. Don’t want to lose you over this.”

Tony reached out and grasped Gibbs’ hand. “You won’t, not as long as you keep trying.”

Gibbs squeezed Tony’s hand in relief, and tried to relax, but he was still tense. Tony picked up on that quickly.

“There’s more, isn’t there?”

Gibbs tried to pull his hand away, but Tony held on. Gibbs glanced at him, then nodded. “Yeah, there’s more.”

Tony waited.

“So much has to do with Shannon, with Kelly,” Gibbs admitted. “Losing them made me solitary again. The exes tried to break through the walls I put up, but they couldn’t. Jenny came close, but I never really let her in either.”

Tony shifted his hand, lacing his fingers through Gibbs’. “Seems to me a few people have, though. Ducky, Abby, me…”

Gibbs nodded. “Yeah, the three of you have done what only Shannon and Kelly did before. You made me want to connect. You’re the only one who’s really gotten past the walls, though. But the flip side is that I’m afraid of losing you, like I lost my girls… so sometimes I just don’t want you on my six in a dangerous situation… I don’t want to be going to your funeral any more than you want to be at mine.”

Tony leaned forward and gave Gibbs a very light head slap. “Gibbs… I’m your senior field agent, I’m your friend, and I’m your lover. I’m not your son, I’m not a child, and it’s not your job to keep me safe by keeping me away from danger. You’re not my bodyguard.” Tony shifted forward, caressing Gibbs’ head where he’d slapped him a moment before. “Answer me this, Jethro… would you die for me?”

Gibbs looked at Tony seriously. “In a heartbeat, if it meant saving you.”

“Okay. Then allow me the same privilege. I’d bet that if we watch out for each other, neither of us will ever have to take that step. We are pretty good at what we do, you know.”

Gibbs smiled slightly. “True.”

Tony sat back and looked at him. “Tell me something, Jeth… do you deserve me?”

“I… what?”

“Do you deserve me? Do you think you have a right to be happy?”

“Tony… why do you ask?”

“Because I think it’s a hard question for you to answer. You’re going to want to head slap me for this, but I think there’s a part of you that doesn’t believe it’s okay for you to be happy. I think you blame yourself for Shannon’s and Kelly’s deaths. I think you need to push yourself into letting this happen, that maybe on some level you sabotage things, because it doesn’t feel right to enjoy your life when Shannon and Kelly lost theirs.”

Gibbs shifted away from Tony, looking toward the window and fighting to get control of his emotions. Tony had hit on something Gibbs had stopped consciously thinking about years ago. Gibbs was pretty sure Ducky had it figured out too, but his older friend had never quite called him on it. He felt a tear escape his left eye and angrily lifted his hand to wipe it away.

“It’s okay, Jeth,” Tony said quietly. “You don’t have to say anything. I get it… there are some things that are too difficult to talk about. But let me ask you this… does it make you feel any better to know that Shannon’s real? That it wasn’t just your imagination?”

Gibbs continued to stare at the window, jaw clenched tight against the pain and anger and despair from that time of loss that wanted to burst free. He nodded curtly, just once, still not looking at Tony, whose fingers were still entwined with his own.

Tony was quiet for a while; it took about ten minutes, but Gibbs finally relaxed a little and turned back toward Tony, who gazed back at him, his face sad.

“I’ve never been through what you have, Jethro,” he said quietly. “I have my own issues, and they aren’t as tragic as yours, but they still affect me. It’s hard for me to believe I make you happy, but I do believe it. Still blows my mind that I’m with you… you’re _Gibbs_.”

Gibbs shook his head. “I’m not –“ he cut himself off as his voice broke a bit. He swallowed and tried again. “I’m not some hero, Tony. I don’t deserve that kind of admiration.”

Tony smiled a bit. “Sorry to disagree with you there. But see it from my perspective… as much as I’ve worked for you, and learned from you, and respected you… as much as I’ve wanted your attention and your friendship and to know you care over the years, it’s pretty amazing to me to be where I am now.” He squeezed Gibbs’ hand. “It would be so easy for me to get paranoid about screwing up, about doing something so stupid that you kick me out of your life… I could end up babbling and saying idiotic things like Palmer.”

“Please, no.”

Tony laughed. “Don’t worry, Jeth, not planning on it. I have to fight my insecurities a lot to be comfortable with you in this new relationship. I don’t make it obvious. But I work at it… all I’m asking is that you work at letting me be there for you and on believing that it’s alright for you to be happy.”

Gibbs looked down at their joined hands and rubbed his thumb gently across Tony’s fingers. He nodded. “I’ll try, Tony. Best I can give you.”

Tony leaned forward and brushed a kiss across Jethro’s lips. “That’s all I’m asking. Just understand that if you pull something like you did and get yourself in trouble again, I’ll head slap you in front of the entire team, including Vance.”

Jethro sighed, but gave Tony a slight smile. Tony sat back, grinning at him. “Oh, hey, I got you something!” He let go of Jethro’s hand and reached into his pocket. “They had these at the gift shop downstairs.” He handed the item to the older man.

Jethro looked closely at it; it was a pewter keychain much like the one he’d given Tony, but instead of a Saint Bernard there were two wolves on it, one sitting up behind the other who was laying down. Both were looking alertly in the same direction. He ran his finger over it, then looked at Tony. “Seems appropriate… thank you.”

Tony grinned at him. “Just a little reminder that you don’t have to be alone anymore… you’re part of a team now. Or pack, if you prefer,” he added, gesturing toward the keychain.

Jethro smiled at Tony, then reached to him, running his fingers through his hair and pulling him in for a kiss. Their lips slid together, and their tongues met, playing with each other softly. Tony made a happy sound, then pulled back slowly. “Nurse Lisa catches us like this, she’ll kick me out for sure.” He reached up to gently stroke Jethro’s cheek. “I thought I might never get to do that again,” he said quietly.

Jethro leaned into the caress. “Me too. I told Shannon to tell you how sorry I was, Tony. About not waiting for you, and about not making it out of there, if I didn’t…”

Tony shook his head. “Enough of the heavy stuff for now, Jeth. You did get out of there, and we’ve settled the issue… until the next time, anyway.”

Jethro sighed and nodded, then reached up and delivered a light smack to the back of Tony’s head. Both men laughed and sat back, just gazing at each other until Lisa arrived with dinner.


	32. Recovery Part 1

**A Dream And A Decision**

 _Tony moved carefully toward the warehouse door, which was standing ajar. He waved to Ziva and McGee, motioning for Ziva to back him up and for McGee to keep watch. He listened at the door, but heard nothing, so, holding his gun up close to his chest, he moved quickly through the door, extending his arms rapidly. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the lower light, but as soon as they did he moved off to one side so Ziva could follow. A quick scan of the large space showed a beige Ford off to one side, a makeshift campsite, random piles of boxes and oil drums… he focused on the black Hummer sitting over near the wall. It sat in the shadows; he could make out that someone was sitting in the front seat, but couldn’t see who it was. Motioning for Ziva to move along the far wall to check behind the various piles, he approached the Hummer, clearing the Ford first. He was close enough now to see that Gibbs was sitting in the front seat, head turned to one side._ Funny time for the Boss to be sleeping _, Tony thought._ Drugged, more likely. _Glancing over at Ziva, he saw her check behind the last pile of boxes, then turn in his direction. She motioned ‘all clear’ at him. He nodded, then carefully approached the Hummer, gun at the ready in case Johnson was hiding in the back. A quick look showed the rear was empty; Tony sheathed his weapon and opened the front driver’s side door. “Hell of a time to be slee –“ He cut off the sentence as he took in the sight of Gibbs’ shirt covered in blood, his hands laying limply in his lap, a gaping wound in his neck, his eyes staring sightlessly at the far door. He heard someone screaming and realized it was him. A hand gripped his shoulder and he turned in shock to see Johnson standing in front of him, bullet wounds in his chest, smiling happily. “You’re too late.”_

Tony shot up off the couch, the sound of his own shout echoing in his ears. He stumbled and fell, narrowly missing the coffee table. He lay on the floor for a minute, breathing heavily, blinking at the ceiling and letting his mind readjust to reality.

 _A dream. Just a dream. Nightmare. Only the… what, tenth one? Thirteenth? I’ve lost count. Damn it. Thought this would stop now that Jeth’s recovering in the hospital._

Tony sat up and ran his hand over his face, grimacing as it came away damp and he realized he’d been crying. _This is ridiculous. Something’s gotta give._ He pushed himself to his feet and made for the bathroom, splashing some water on his face when he got there. He looked in the mirror to see dark circles under his eyes. _Not like I got any sleep last night at the hospital._

He’d stayed all night on his trumped up protection detail, talking idly with Jethro about nothing in particular until the older man had fallen asleep. Tony had turned out the light and sat in the dark, watching and thinking until morning, when Abby had shown up with McGee and imperiously ordered him to go home and sleep. He’d come home, to his own apartment this time, and fallen asleep on the couch.

Tony moved back into the living room and looked around. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He’d go back to the hospital, but he was pretty sure Ducky would send him packing. And as much as he wanted to go back and be with Jethro… he needed to clear his head after that conversation last night. _Maybe that’s what I need… change of scene._ He moved over to his desk, rifling through the drawer to come up with a pen and some paper. He sat down, thought for a moment, then started to write.

 **Ducky’s Directive**

Gibbs stared mutinously at the television, clicking through channels rapidly. He wanted out, and he wanted out now. There was no reason for him to be stuck in the hospital; he’d been through much worse and had taken care of himself just fine. Abby and McGee had left only a few minutes ago, after Ducky called to say he was on his way. They hadn’t been able to entirely hide their relief; the doctor had only just told him he had to stay in the hospital for at least two more days… something about blood loss and infection and stitches. He’d gone a little ballistic after that… tried to sign himself out AMA, but the doctor turned out to be a friend of Ducky’s and wouldn’t get him the paperwork until he talked with Ducky first.

He clicked the television off and tossed the remote onto the side table. At least he didn’t have a roommate. He just wanted to get out, relax at home, eat real food, and reconnect with Tony. He’d done some damage, and he was wise enough now to know that as productive as the previous night’s conversation had been, things weren’t all fixed yet.

“Ah, Jethro! You do look better today.”

Gibbs turned his head to see Ducky walk into the room. His friend sat down and smiled genially, removing his hat and placing it on the table over the remote.

“Get me out of here, Duck.”

“No need to growl at me, Jethro. You aren’t going anywhere. You lost a fair amount of blood, and there’s some serious concern about possible infection. You need those IVs and you have got to be careful with that wound in your side.”

Gibbs was surprised Ducky wasn’t shaking a finger at him. “Duck, I can lie around at home much better than here. And I won’t have damn nurses waking me up every damn hour for no good reason. Tony will stay with me, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Ducky sat back and looked at Jethro seriously. “My dear boy… if you go home you won’t just lie around. You know it, I know it, and Tony knows it. He needs rest too – he doesn’t need to be chasing you around trying to get you back into bed.”

Gibbs smirked at that, but didn’t say anything. Ducky sighed and shook his head. “Speaking of Anthony… he asked me to give you this.” Ducky pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket and held it out to Gibbs, who stared at it as if it were a grenade.

Ducky continued to hold the envelope out to him, but Gibbs made no move to take it. Finally Ducky dropped his arm in exasperation and glared at Gibbs. “Do stop being foolish, Jethro. You really must stop assuming the worst. That boy loves you; he isn’t going anywhere. Don’t you remember when I told you it would take more than a crowbar to pry him away from you?”

Gibbs continued to look at the letter suspiciously. “You know what’s in it, Duck?”

“Of course not, Jethro! I don’t read other people’s private mail!” Ducky sat forward. “Anthony told me that there was no need to worry, that everything is all right. Now take it.” He extended the envelope again; Gibbs reached out and took it gingerly, flipping it over in both hands several times. Finally he opened it, pulling out a sheet of paper, which he unfolded and looked over, moving it further away and squinting.

“Oh, I almost forgot… he gave me these too.” Ducky reached into his pocket again, pulling out Gibbs’ reading glasses. Gibbs shot him a look but took them and put them on.

 _Hey Jeth,_

 _Stop assuming the worst. This isn’t a ‘Dear John’ letter… although I guess it would be a ‘Dear Jethro’ letter. I just want to let you know that I’m heading out of town for a few days, and I admit to complete cowardice in not coming to tell you in person. I need to clear my head… I keep having these dreams, and frankly seeing you dead every time I close my eyes is starting to piss me off. So I decided a change of scene is a good idea. Don’t worry, I’m not going to Seattle. I’ll be close enough to get to the hospital if you need me, and Ducky swears you’ll be there for at least two more days. Just need to get away, get some rest and hopefully have much better dreams about you than the ones I’ve been having lately. Heal up fast – we’ve got some catching up to do._

 _I’ll see you when you get out._

 _Tony_

Gibbs read the letter through three times before removing his glasses and putting it back in the envelope, which he stared at for a long time before looking over at Ducky.

“Exactly how bad are these dreams he’s been having?”

“Bad enough. He won’t tell anyone the details. I can tell you that Timothy told me he woke up screaming once in the bullpen. Luckily it was late enough that only your team was there. It was the first night you went missing.”

Gibbs nodded absently. He was disappointed that he wouldn’t see Tony that night, but he couldn’t be angry with him. _It’s my fault Tony’s having nightmares._

The phone next to his bed rang shrilly, startling him out of his thoughts. He glared at it and let it ring.

Ducky shifted uncomfortably. “Aren’t you going to answer that?”

Gibbs shook his head. “It’s just the nurse’s desk. They keep calling to ask if I want anything.”

Ducky looked puzzled. “Calling? Why on earth… why don’t they just come and check on you?”

Gibbs shrugged and looked down at his blanket, picking at it with his fingers. “I might have yelled at some girl with a book cart.”

Ducky chuckled. “You really do amuse me sometimes, Jethro.”

The phone stopped ringing. Ducky sat forward a bit. “Shall we –“ The phone rang again. Ducky looked at Gibbs, who made a face and looked away. Ducky sighed and answered the phone. “Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs’ room,” he said with a flourish, exaggerating his Scottish brogue.

Gibbs let out an exasperated sigh.

“Ah, Tony! Very nice to hear from you, my dear boy!”

Gibbs’ head snapped in Ducky’s direction, and he grabbed for the phone, wincing as he pulled on the stitches in his side. Ducky leaned back, avoiding him. “No, no… he’s here. He isn’t answering the phone because he thinks it’s the nurse… yes, he apparently scared one of the volunteers… indeed!... yes, I gave it to him… no, I don’t think so… Well, good for you.” A longer pause. “You have a good time, my boy. Get some rest… yes, I will let you know.” He hung up the phone.

“Ducky!” Gibbs stared at him.

Ducky laughed. “You do have it bad, my friend. However did it take the two of you so long to get together?” He stood and reached out to pick up his hat. “Don’t worry, Jethro… he’s calling back in a moment. I shall repair to the waiting room and give you some privacy. I’ll be back in a bit.” He reached out and patted Gibbs on the shoulder, then left, pulling the door shut behind him.

Gibbs stared at the phone, fidgeting until it rang again two minutes later.

 **Phone Call**

Gibbs picked up the phone just as the first ring finished.

“Yeah, Gibbs.”

 _“Hey, Jeth.”_

“Tony… you okay?”

 _“I’m fine. Really. Just need to get away for a few days… so, you read my letter?”_

“Yeah.”

 _“How badly did you freak out when Ducky gave it to you?”_

“I didn’t freak out, Tony.”

 _“Yeah, you did.”_ Gibbs could hear the smile in Tony’s voice. _“Sorry I’m kinda being a chicken here, Boss… but I figured if I went to see you at the hospital, I wouldn’t leave after all… and I think I need this.”_

“I get it. Where you going?”

 _“Why, so you can hunt me down?”_

Gibbs snorted. “Please. Ducky’s keeping me prisoner here.”

 _“Well, it’s either Ducky locks you up at the hospital, or I lock you up at your place… you know, Jeth, that actually sounds like it’s got some possibilities. I could bring my leather cuffs over…”_

Gibbs laughed. “Don’t think I’m quite up for that yet, Tony.”

Tony sighed mournfully. _“Figures. I make a lousy nurse anyway.”_

Gibbs sat back against the pillows. “So where are you going, again?”

Tony chuckled. _“You are persistent.”_

“You just figuring that out now?”

 _“Nah, had that one down about five minutes after I met you.”_

“So…”

A sigh. _“Heading down to the Carolinas.. can make it back to DC in a few hours if you need me. Made reservations at a decent hotel, gonna get some beach time.”_

“A little early for bikinis, isn’t it?”

 _“It’s almost June. Forecast is nice. Could be tons of eye candy out there. And don’t worry… I figure I can look, but I won’t touch.”_

Gibbs was silent.

 _“Seriously, Jeth… I wouldn’t do that to us.”_

Gibbs nodded, then remembered that Tony couldn’t see that. “I know you wouldn’t. No more dreams, okay? You’re gonna make me feel bad.”

Tony laughed again. _“We’ve talked about all that already. We move forward from here, okay?”_

Gibbs smiled. “Okay, Tony.”

 _“Good deal, Jeth.”_ There was a pause. _“Look, I’m gonna go. You heal up. Ducky’s gonna call me when he’s got an ETA on your release… I’ll be at your place.”_

“Alright, Tony… take care of yourself.”

 _“You got it, Jeth. You do the same. And stop scaring the nurses... haven’t you seen One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest?”_

Gibbs grinned, then heard the click of Tony disconnecting. He reached over and hung up his phone, then picked up the remote and found a baseball game on TV.


	33. Recovery Part 2

**Abby vs. Tony**

Tony stood on the second floor balcony outside his hotel room, watching the waves run up on the sand. A boy and a dog were walking on the beach, and the dog kept charging the waves, barking furiously as they retreated, then running back to the boy when they came back in. The boy was laughing and encouraging the dog, and Tony couldn’t help but smile at the scene.

It had been really difficult to leave Gibbs behind in D.C. Tony had actually almost left the airport and gone back to the hospital, but he’d managed to make himself get on the plane after all. He knew he needed the time away, and the fact that he’d slept through the night with no nightmares told him he’d made the right move. He’d still had some pretty weird dreams, though… he couldn’t remember much about them, only that Gibbs kept showing up randomly wearing a tuxedo and a sombrero and with a parrot on his shoulder, and McGee was running around with pointy ears and saying “live long and prosper” while doing the Vulcan salute. _Okay, so maybe I am still having nightmares. Just not Gibbs-dead nightmares._

Tony watched as the boy and the dog disappeared from view, then reached for his cell phone. He wanted to surprise Gibbs with a phone call. He knew he’d made it sound as though he was going to be incommunicado for the next couple of days, but that was never his plan. He’d just wanted to see how Gibbs would take the idea, and he’d been pleasantly surprised that his lover had been pretty cool about the whole thing.

Just as he went to flip the phone open and make the call, the first notes of Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries flew from the speaker. He almost dropped the phone in surprise, juggling it before catching it just as it was about to fly off the balcony. Tony hesitated before answering… he’d changed to that new ring tone after the plane had landed, figuring it would be appropriate for Gibbs’ personal avenging angel. He sighed and flipped it open.

“Hey, Abs.”

 _“TONY!! How could you do this to him! What were you thinking?!”_

“Um, Abs…”

 _“I mean, seriously, Tony! You need such a head smack! You left Gibbs all alone!”_

“You mean to tell me you haven’t been there? Or Ziva? McGee? Ducky?”

Abby sighed loudly.

 _“Of course we’ve all been there. But he doesn’t really want us! He wants you!”_

“Glad to hear it. But I talked to him before I left. He’s okay with it.”

 _“No, he’s not. He misses you.”_

“And I miss him. But I needed some time away.”

 _“Why?! I don’t get it. You have the perfect relationship, and you walk away from it? You’ve gone insane. That’s the only explanation. Have aliens eaten your brain?”_

Tony laughed. “Abby… my brain is fine. No relationship is perfect, and I am NOT walking away. I just needed a change of scene.”

 _“You abandoned Gibbs to the mercies of the nurses in the hospital! They gave him a sponge bath! “_

“Huh. Did they have to sedate him first?”

 _“Almost. He was pretty pissed about it.”_

“No surprise there.”

 _“I’m still waiting for an answer, buster. You’re not getting away with this.”_

“I’m not trying to get away with anything, Abs. Look… I get that this is kinda weird. I’m actually surprised I went through with it. But you need to understand… ever since Gibbs disappeared, I’ve been having these really, really _real_ nightmares. And Gibbs is dead in every one of them. Not the peaceful, half smile on the face, reunited with his family sort of dead… I mean the worst, bloody, gory, died in agony kind of dead. In every dream I’m too late… in a few I actually had to watch Johnson kill him. Over and over, several times a night.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Abby’s voice was in his ear again, very quiet and small.

 _“Oh. I’m sorry.”_

“It’s okay, Abs. You didn’t know. I didn’t really talk about it with anyone. It’s just… remember when you had that nightmare about Autopsy, and wouldn’t go down there for a long time? It’s been like that… only maybe worse. I thought it would stop after we got him back, but it didn’t. Maybe ‘cause I can’t stop thinking about how he wouldn’t let me be on his six, even though he promised… anyway, they wouldn’t stop until I left and got here… I didn’t have any of those dreams last night.”

 _“Did you try to control them?”_

“Huh?”

 _“The dreams. You can control your dreams, if you try. You know, like, erase the bad stuff and fix it. It’s your brain that’s creating them, so you should be able to take charge.”_

“I wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to do that.”

 _“Just refuse the bad outcome. Be powerful in the dream, make it go the way you want.”_

“You can really do that?”

 _“Well, I hear it can be done. I read up on that stuff so that if I ever had the bad Autopsy dream again, I could make it turn out differently. But it never came back, so I didn’t have to try.”_

“I’ll try it if they come back.”

 _“So it is awesome where you are?”_

“Nah, not really. It’s nice, fresh air and all that, but I’d rather be with Gibbs.”

 _“Then come back.”_

“Ducky’s gonna let me know when he’ll be released, and I’ll come home before that.”

There was another little moment of silence.

“You’re pouting, aren’t you?”

 _“Yes. On behalf of our fearless leader. He needs you, Tony! He’s all grumpy and stuff.”_

“And that’s different from a normal day, how?”

 _“There’s this underlying sadness, behind the grumpiness. It’s like he keeps hoping it’s you every time he hears someone coming down the hall.”_

“Sure you’re not projecting, Abs?”

 _“Well, maybe a little. But the highest GSS value since you left is only a 1.7. That’s the first time it’s been below average since you guys got together. Science doesn’t lie, Tony, it just gets misinterpreted. Don’t you think the dreams would go away if you guys just spent the night together?”_

“Maybe they would. But I don’t think the nurses would buy the protection detail thing if they caught us sharing a bed, and I don’t think we could both fit on the bed anyway.”

 _“Might be fun to try.”_

Tony grinned at that. “Maybe when he doesn’t have a knife wound in his side.”

 _“Good point. I did bring him Bert, so maybe that will help.”_

“Mmm hmm. Don’t see why it wouldn’t.”

He could almost hear Abby’s eyes narrow. _“Bert is a mystical force for good, Tony.”_

“Yes, he is. Abs… as much as I’m enjoying contemplating Gibbs with a farting hippo for a pillow, I actually was just going to call him when you called me…”

 _“Why didn’t you say so?! Go! Call him now! Now, Tony!”_

Tony grinned at the beep of her hanging up.

 **Of Sponge Baths and Parrots**

Gibbs shifted uncomfortably on the bed as the nurse came in with his dinner. She was the one who’d given him the damn sponge bath, and she was looking at him as if he were on the menu. _So much for professionalism. And I’ve got to be old enough to be her father!_

She settled the tray on the table and rolled it over to him, then picked up the napkin and moved to tuck it into the neck of his hospital gown. He grabbed it out of her hand and glared at her; she blushed and stammered something he didn’t catch, then left quickly. He glared at her back until she was out of sight, then turned his attention to the tray. He surveyed the contents and sighed… it didn’t look very appetizing, but he’d eaten worse in the Corps. _Suck it up, Marine. Sure bet Tony will order a pizza when I get out of here._

He finished off the food in record time, not wanting to give Ducky any excuse to try to keep him here any longer than absolutely necessary. He pushed the table away and sat back, wincing a little as the stitches in his side pulled again. He knew he was healing well, and he was hoping to get out the next day, but Ducky kept talking about antibiotics and not liking how the edges of the wound were still a little puffy. Which was why he’d been subjected to the indignity of a sponge bath; Ducky didn’t want him doing anything to stress the injury. Abby’d been there at the time, and she’d gotten all worried and insisted that he keep Bert next to his injured side so he could “work his mojo,” as she’d put it. Then she’d asked where Tony was.

Gibbs had thought she was going to explode when she found out Tony had actually left D.C. She’d babbled to Gibbs about not worrying and alien brain-eaters or something, apparently sworn vengeance on his behalf, then pulled out a deck of cards. They’d played for a while, until she’d suddenly decided he should take a nap and had left. Soon after that dinner was served.

And now Gibbs was bored. He had books to read, but was tired of reading. He just wanted to look over the plans for Tony’s cabinet and spend some quality time in his basement. He started making plans to escape, trying to remember the layout of the hallway and where the nurses’ station was.

The phone rang while he was imagining sneaking into the stairwell, and he picked it up automatically. “Yeah, Gibbs.”

 _“Hey, Jeth. I hear you got a sponge bath. What do I have to do, mark you as private property?”_

Gibbs’ smile registered a 9.2, or it would have if anyone in the know had been there to see it.

“Tony! How are you?”

 _“I’m good. How was the sponge bath? Was she hot?”_

“She was way too young and way too interested in ways she shouldn’t be… total disgrace to the profession.”

 _“Damn. I’m sorry I missed it.”_

“Time away doing what you needed?”

He could hear the smile in Tony’s voice. _“Nice subject change there, Jethro. Yeah, I think maybe it is. Although Abby thinks I’ve betrayed loyal Saint Bernards everywhere. I may have to turn in the keychain.”_

Gibbs snorted. “If anyone did any betraying , it was me, Tony. You keep that keychain.”

 _“Planning on it, no worries. And ‘betray’ may be a little strong, Jeth.”_

Gibbs sighed. “I’m not so sure, Tony. You’re right… I broke a promise, one that was important to you. I might not be stuck here now if I’d been just a little more patient.”

 _“Who are you and what have you done with Gibbs?”_

“Hey, I’m trying to apologize here.”

 _“We’ve done all that. Don’t worry about it. I have high hopes that if you keep trying you just might succeed.”_

“I am going to keep trying, Tony.”

 _“Thank you.”_

“So… you still seeing me dead when you close your eyes?”

 _“You remember what I wrote, huh? Not last night. Hey, you own a tux?”_

“Uh… yeah. Why?”

 _“Just curious. What about a sombrero?”_

“Definitely not.”

 _“A parrot?”_

“Tony, what the hell –“

 _“Never mind. Just wondering. The subconscious mind is a strange thing, Jeth.”_

“Uh huh. Tell me you aren’t having weird sexual fantasies involving parrots.”

 _“Eww. No way. McGee was in the dream too.”_

“What, now I have to mark you as personal property?”

 _“Ha, funny, Jeth. Me and McGee? Probie would backslide into stammering again if anyone even suggested it. Besides, you’re all I want.”_

Gibbs grinned. “May want you to prove that sometime soon.”

 _“Heal up quick and I will.”_

“Incentive is a good thing.”

 _“It is indeed. I think…”_

“What, Tony?”

 _“I think maybe I did need to get away. Get some perspective.”_

“Yeah? Something more than McGee playing pirate with a parrot?”

 _“Heh, say that three times fast. And it was your parrot. Yeah, something more. I’ve been your second for a long time, Jeth, and it’s tough for me be as assertive as I need to be in this relationship with you. Gotta be able to get into the right mindset for work. But talking like this, with some distance… makes me think maybe I can switch it on and off when I need to.”_

“That’s good, Tony. You see me falling back into old patterns, you give me that head slap.”

 _“Even in front of Vance?”_

Gibbs grimaced. “Only if I really, really mess up.”

 _“Will do, Jeth. I mean, I will give you that head slap if I need to, not saying you will definitely mess up that badly.”_

“Sure as hell gonna try not to, Tony.”

 _“Any idea when you’re getting sprung?”_

“I was making plans for a great escape when you called. But I’ll probably be here another full day if I don’t want Ducky pissed at me. And Tony… as long as you can keep things right at work, you can be as assertive as you need to be at home.”

 _“That include putting those leather cuffs on you?”_

“I think that’s negotiable.”

 _“Damn… I will definitely have some good dreams tonight.”_

Gibbs laughed. “Goodnight, Tony.”

 _“Night, Jeth. Sleep well.”_

Smiling (a 7.4), Gibbs hung up the phone and reached over to his book. It didn’t seem so boring anymore.

 **Taking Control**

 _Tony inched around the corner of the building, carefully checking the alley. It was clear. He moved silently around the corner and along the wall, glancing behind for any sign of Johnson. He arrived at a door on the side of the building on the other side of the alley; he reached out and grasped the handle, which turned easily. He swung the door open._

 _He was in a large room filled with blue light just like in the hospital when he had the plague. Only it was Gibbs on the bed, struggling to breathe. A doctor in a white coat stood next to him, holding a clipboard. The doctor turned to look at Tony and waved him closer. Tony approached the bed and looked down at Gibbs, who was bleeding from several cuts on his neck, arms, and chest. Horrified, he looked up at the doctor; it was Johnson. Tony looked back down at Gibbs, whose wrists were now cuffed to the rails on the bed. Johnson reached down and touched Gibbs’ arm, and Gibbs screamed in pain._

That’s wrong. Gibbs wouldn’t scream like that.

 _Johnson pulled out a knife and reached toward Gibbs’ arm. Gibbs started crying, begging Johnson to stop_.

No way. Gibbs wouldn’t break so easily.

I’m dreaming again.

Damn it.

 _Gibbs screamed again as Johnson rammed the knife into his arm. He looked over at Tony. “Why are you letting him do this to me, Tony?” Tony reeled back as if Gibbs had struck him. Johnson smiled at Tony, then changed his grip on the knife and plunged it into Gibbs chest. Gibbs’ body convulsed once, twice, then lay still, an accusing look on his face, his head turned toward Tony, his eyes blank. “You’re too late,” Johnson said._

I’ve really had enough of this.

Abby said I could control it, undo the bad stuff.

Here goes.

 _Tony reached behind him and picked up a bucket of water off the floor. He emptied the bucket over Johnson, who scrambled backward and started screaming as he started melting. It didn’t take long for him to disappear into a pile of multi-colored goo._

More Roger Rabbit than Wizard of Oz, but I’ll take it.

 _Tony looked at Gibbs, who lay pale and unmoving on the bed, arms crossed over his chest as if he were a mummy. There was no blood. Tony reached out and put his fingers on Gibbs’ neck. No pulse either._

So how do I bring him back?

Ah.

Of course.

 _Tony leaned over and gently kissed Gibbs’ lips. They were cold and unresponsive at first, then suddenly they warmed up, and Tony felt Gibbs’ arms coming up to circle around his waist, pulling Tony against him. The kiss went on for a long time, each of them giving and taking, and Tony finally pulled back to see Gibbs smiling up at him. “Thanks, Tony.”_

Tony woke up slowly, blinking into the faint light coming through the curtains of the hotel room. He could still feel Gibbs’ lips on his. _I’ll have to get Abby a really, really nice present when I get back._

He fell back to sleep and made it peacefully through the night.


	34. Recovery Part 3

**Foiled**

 _Crap._

Gibbs swore silently to himself as the two nurses marched him back to his room.

 _Whoever had the brilliant idea of male nurses? And since when did they get so big?_

The nurse on his left, whose nametag read ‘Denny,’ looked down at Gibbs with an annoyed expression. “You pop those stitches, we’ll be stuck with you longer. Do us all a favor and just deal, will you please?”

Gibbs’ jaw twitched, but he said nothing.

The nurse on his right, whose nametag read ‘Morris,’ glanced over at him too. He seemed more amused. “You know, Dr. Mallard’s given us orders to sedate you if you try anything like this. So…”

Gibbs glanced back. “You do, and I’ll break rule thirteen.”

Morris’ expression turned confused. “What’s rule thirteen?”

“Never, ever involve a lawyer.”

Denny gave an exaggerated sigh. “You know how many times people threaten to sue us, man? Look, just stay put until you’re released tomorrow, and we’ll all be happy.”

Gibbs sighed mentally. “So how’d you find out I was gone?”

They didn’t answer, just escorted him into his room, where Abby was pacing back and forth and muttering to herself. She looked up as they entered. “Gibbs!!” She ran over and was clearly going to hug him… she ended up hugging Morris instead when he moved to block her. “Hey!” She jumped back, glaring at him.

Morris grinned. “Gotta keep him from messing up those stitches,” he explained.

Dennis shifted over so that he was clearly in Gibbs’ line of sight. He didn’t say a word, just stared at Gibbs and pointed at the bed. Gibbs sighed and moved toward it, pulling back the thin blanket and climbing in. He turned back to Dennis and raised an eyebrow. Dennis glared at him for a moment, then picked up a clean hospital gown from the back of the chair next to the bed and tossed it at him. “Change. Leave the scrubs on the chair; I’ll be back for them.” He turned to leave, tapping Morris on the shoulder. Morris stopped grinning at Abby and followed him out.

Gibbs stared down at the gown in his hand for a moment, then looked up at Abby. “You foil my escape plan, Abs?”

Abby bit her lip. “I didn’t mean to! I came to talk to you about Tony, but you weren’t here, so I asked the nurse where you were, and they got all worried, and that big guy got pissy and then they all went looking… I thought maybe you got hurt or something, maybe you fell down the stairs and couldn’t get up or call for help…” She fell silent as looked at Gibbs, who was staring at her incredulously.

“I’m not an invalid.”

“I know that, Gibbs! But if you’re going to steal some nurse’s scrubs and try to escape from the hospital, you should let us know so that we don’t worry!”

Gibbs sighed and shook his head. “What did you want to tell me about Tony, Abs?”

Abby walked closer and sat in the chair, looked earnestly at Gibbs. “You’ve talked to him since he left, right?”

Gibbs nodded. “Several times.”

“Well, I talked to him the other day, and I can confirm that his brains weren’t eaten by aliens.”

Gibbs nodded again, more slowly, looking at Abby warily. “Were yours?”

“What? Gibbs! No! I just – I wanted to make sure that you weren’t too mad at him for going away.”

“Never was.”

“He’s been having these really bad dreams… he told me about them before, and I told _you_ about them, but I didn’t realize how bad they were, ‘cause he didn’t tell me that he was having them as much as he really was, and I didn’t realize how much they were affecting him, ‘cause he didn’t tell me that either until I talked to him on the phone, so I knew, but I didn’t know, you know? I think maybe he really did need to get away. Not from you, just to get a change of scene so that he could stop dreaming.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?! That’s it? Just okay? Gibbs, I came here to make sure you weren’t thinking the worst! I mean, what if you thought he was avoiding you, or you thought he died or something?”

“Why would I think –“

“Oh my god, Gibbs, what if you’d thought he didn’t want you anymore, and you decided to kill yourself, like Juliet when she thought Romeo was dead? And then Tony came back and found out you were dead, and he killed himself out of guilt and despair?”

Gibbs stared at her, mouth hanging slightly open. “Abby. I’m not a teenage girl. Tony explained why he needed space. Nobody’s committing suicide.”

Abby drew in a shaky breath and looked at the wall above Gibbs’ head. “Good.”

Gibbs’ expression changed to suspicion. “How many Caff-Pows have you had recently?”

Abby thought about that. “I don’t think I’ve had any since Tony found you in that warehouse.”

Gibbs nodded, then reached out his right hand to take Abby’s while his left moved to take her gently by the chin and turn her to look at him. “Go have one now.”

“But Gibbs –“

“Now, Abby. You’re going through some sort of withdrawal and not making much sense. I’ll be fine.”

Abby’s eyes narrowed. “You won’t try to escape again?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Going home tomorrow. Needed something to do today; I got bored.”

Abby shot him a small smile. “You promise you won’t try to run away?”

Gibbs sighed. “I promise, Abby.”

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Okay. I do kinda miss my Caff-Pows. Is Tony picking you up tomorrow, or do you need me to give you a ride home?”

“Tony’s still having his change of scene. Ducky’s driving me home tomorrow.”

Abby’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“It’ll be fine, Abs.”

She sighed, then smiled and gave him a little wave before she turned to leave.

Gibbs watched her go, then looked around the room. He looked back down at the gown on his lap, then decided to change before Denny came back and did it for him. That done, he tossed the scrubs on the chair and picked up his cell phone, hitting speed dial 1.

Tony picked up on the third ring. _“Hey, Jeth. How far did you get?”_

“Managed to get the scrubs, then avoid the nurses up until the ground floor… two of ‘em caught up to me before I could get out the service entrance.”

 _“How’d that happen?”_

“Abby tipped ‘em off.”

 _“Seriously? Wow.”_ There was a pause. _“You didn’t tell her we collaborated on the escape plan this morning, did you?”_

“You kidding? She’d kill you and –“

 _“Leave no forensic evidence. Yeah. Sorry for doubting you there.”_

“When you coming back?”

 _“Flight’s later this evening. Gonna crash at your place, then shop in the morning, make sure you have real food. Thought about coming by the hospital, but I want a more private reunion.”_

Gibbs smiled. “Sounds good to me. Ducky’s already offered to drive me home.”

 _“You sure that’s a good idea, Jethro?”_

“Why not?”

Tony sighed. _“At least Ducky won’t mind just dropping you off and leaving. If Abby gave you a ride, she’d be hanging out all day.”_

“Exactly.” Gibbs paused. “Nightmares getting better?”

 _“Yeah. Still having a few of them, but Abby told me to try controlling them, and it turns out I’m pretty good at that.”_

“How so?”

 _“I’ve killed Johnson a couple of times now, and let me tell you, movies are great sources of creative death scenes.”_

“You getting him before he gets me?”

 _“Mostly. Sometimes I get him after, then I bring you back to life.”_

“CPR?”

 _“A kiss, actually.”_ Gibbs could hear Tony smirking.

“What the hell, DiNozzo?! First Abby compares me to a teenage girl with a crush, then you decide I’m a fairytale princess? Thought you said my masculinity has never been in question.”

 _“The effects of true love cannot be limited along gender lines.”_ Gibbs could picture Tony making grandiose gestures.

“True love, huh?”

There was silence for several seconds.

 _“Yeah. I think so.”_

“Well, me too, Tony.”

He heard Tony exhale forcefully. _“That’s good, Jeth. Actually, that’s pretty damn awesome.”_

Gibbs grinned, leaning back against the pillow. “Uh huh.”

Tony cleared his throat, then said, _“Ducky said he’ll be bringing you home mid-afternoonish.”_

Gibbs sighed. “Yeah. Wants me to have one more IV of antibiotics before I leave here.”

 _“Okay. I’ll see you then. Gonna go get another walk on the beach.”_

“Alright, Tony. Have a good trip back.”

 _“Bye, Jeth.”_

Gibbs hung up and tossed his cell back onto the bedside table. He picked up the remote and turned on the TV, flipping channels until he came to a Magnum P.I. episode. He decided to watch and see why Tony thought the show was so great.

Dennis came in about ten minutes later, and Gibbs ignored him as he gathered the scrubs off the chair. The big man looked at him suspiciously, but didn’t say anything before he left. Gibbs watched the rest of the episode, learning that he was at the beginning of a marathon. He settled in, feeling a little closer to Tony knowing he was watching his favorite show.

 **Home**

 _I’m in Hell._

Gibbs sat in the front passenger seat of Ducky’s Morgan. The car’s top speed was probably less than Gibbs’ typical minimum speed. Not only were they moving at a snail’s pace, but Ducky was lecturing Gibbs on his failed escape attempt. Gibbs had tuned him out after Ducky refused to heed his hints to stop talking, but he couldn’t completely ignore his friend because the M.E. kept asking questions. Finally, as they drew closer to Gibbs’ house, Ducky fell silent. Gibbs turned to look at him, and found Ducky looking back with an amused expression.

“What?”

“I do believe that Anthony has been a good influence on you, Jethro. While I still maintain that your clandestine attempt to leave the hospital was extremely ill-advised, I must admit that it is good to see you countering your frustration and impatience with a sincere effort to have fun.”

Gibbs’ lips twitched a bit, causing Ducky’s smile to widen. “I do believe that even your phone manners have improved. You actually said good-bye to me before hanging up this morning.”

Gibbs smiled. Ducky chuckled. “Excellent! It is good to see you happy, Jethro.”

Gibbs shot a glance at his friend, then shifted his gaze to the house as they pulled into the driveway. Gibbs unfastened his seat belt as Ducky turned off the engine; he moved to open the door, but Ducky’s hand on his arm stopped him. He turned to look back at him impatiently.

“Jethro, you do need to continue to be careful of that wound in your side. I know it feels better and there are no further signs of infection, but you mustn’t be careless. I have already phoned Tony and told him to restrict physical activity.” Ducky’s eyebrows rose, making his meaning perfectly clear.

Gibbs snorted. “What, you think we’re gonna rip each other’s clothes off the second I get in the door?”

Ducky refused to look embarrassed or to back down. “While the physical aspect of your relationship may be important for you to maintain this new, closer bond, you could do with another day or two of rest, Jethro.”

Gibbs sighed. “I talked with Vance this morning. He doesn’t expect any of us back until Monday, which gives me the rest of the day and the weekend before I have to do much of anything. Tony picked up food, so I don’t have to go anywhere. We’re going to take it easy. I’ll be on desk duty until you clear me anyway.”

Ducky nodded. “Do tell Anthony I said hello and welcome back.”

Gibbs nodded. “Of course, Duck.” He opened the door and got out of the car, feeling a slight twinge in his side as he did so. He turned back and smiled at his friend. “Thanks for not coming in.”

Ducky laughed. “I wouldn’t presume to interrupt what is bound to be an emotional reunion, Jethro! And it’s better if I can truly plead ignorance when Abigail calls later to get what I am sure she will refer to as ‘the dirt.’”

Gibbs shook his head and laughed. “I’ll see you Monday, Duck.”

Ducky started up the car and waved as he turned to back out of the driveway. Gibbs watched him go, then turned to look toward the house. Tony’s car was parked on the street in front, but there was no sign of Tony at the door. Gibbs walked forward, moving just a little slower than normal, and went inside.

He looked around, then went into the living room, raising his eyebrows at the stack of movies and DVDs sitting next to a new DVD player that was hooked up to the TV. Moving closer, he saw all eight seasons of Magnum stacked on the coffee table. Smiling, he moved to the stairs and headed up.

The first thing he noticed when he entered the bedroom was that the pictures of him and Tony were back up on the wall. The second thing was the feel of Tony’s arms sliding around his waist from behind and Tony’s forehead resting on his shoulder.

“Hey, Jeth.” His voice sounded a bit muffled.

Jethro let his hands settle over Tony’s and leaned back into him. “Hey, Tony.”

They stood like that for several minutes, then Tony’s arms loosened and Jethro turned around to look at him. Tony’s expression was serious; he reached up and gently touched the healing cut on one side of Jethro’s neck. His gaze shifted from one side of Jethro’s neck to the other, and he brought his other hand up to do the same to the cut on the other side. Then his hands moved up to cup Jethro’s face, and their eyes met for a moment before Tony leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips. Jethro’s hands came up to rest on Tony’s hips, and he deepened the kiss, sliding their lips together and lightly brushing Tony’s tongue with his own.

Tony hummed quietly, then slowly pulled back, smiling at Jethro. He looked back down at Jethro’s neck, and the smile faded. “I wish I’d gotten there sooner.”

Jethro sighed. “I wish I hadn’t screwed up and ended up there in the first place.”

Tony tilted his head to one side and his smile came back. “True.”

Jethro smirked and raised one hand to give Tony a very light head slap. Tony immediately returned the favor, then backed up a bit and looked him up and down.

“You feel okay?”

Jethro shrugged. “Could use some real food and then maybe a nap.”

Tony nodded and took Jethro’s hand, leading him back down the stairs. “I have left over pizza from the lunch I brought with me, I can make you a sandwich, or I can heat up some soup in the microwave.”

“Pizza sounds good.”

“Pizza it is. Sit.” Tony gestured at the table, and Jethro sat. Tony disappeared into the kitchen, and moments later Jethro heard the microwave working. Then Tony came in with a single large slice on a plate and a glass of water. Jethro grimaced a bit at the water, but nodded his head in thanks anyway. Tony took a seat next to him. “Once slice to start, another if you want it.”

Jethro forced himself to eat slowly, but after almost a week since he had a full meal – hospital food didn’t count – the one slice was enough to fill him up. He could feel the residual tension leaving his body; being home meant he was relaxing for the first time since he’d been taken from the crime scene. He heard a small chuckle from Tony, and glanced over at him. Tony was grinning and shaking his head. “You’re asleep on your feet, Jeth. Head up for that nap. I’m gonna call Abby to stop her from coming over, and then I’ll join you.”

Jethro nodded and went upstairs. He stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed, drifting off within moments. He didn’t entirely fall asleep, though… not until he heard Tony come in and shed his clothing as well. He felt Tony slide into bed with him, and turned toward him, laying his head on Tony’s shoulder and wrapping his arm and leg around him. Tony laughed again. “Looks like you’ve got your teddy bear back.”

Jethro meant to say something, but the comfort of being back in his own bed, holding Tony and feeling the warmth surround him pulled him into sleep.

 **A Gift And A Confession**

Jethro woke slowly, lying in exactly the same position he’d been in when he fell asleep. He shifted a bit, stretching carefully.

“You’re awake.”

Tony’s voice sounded as if he’d just woken up too. Jethro shifted his arm and ran his hand lightly over Tony’s chest. Tony’s hand came up to rest on the back of Jethro’s head, and he ran his fingers gently through his hair.

“How long?” Jethro asked.

He felt Tony shift a bit to look at his watch, which he’d put on the nightstand. “Couple of hours.”

Jethro stretched again, pleased that the stitches didn’t pull much. He raised his head, pressed a kiss to Tony’s chest, then slowly sat up. Tony shifted up too and looked him over. “You look a lot better.”

“First time I’ve really relaxed in a while.”

“I bet.”

Jethro grunted. “How’d Abby take it?”

“I had to make a deal.”

“How’s that?”

Tony sighed and absently ran his fingers along Jethro’s arm. “In exchange for her agreeing to stay away today, and for her willingness to tell the others to do the same, I gave in to her idea for a little party here tomorrow afternoon.”

Jethro groaned. “You’re not serious.”

“Unfortunately, yes. Everyone’s coming, including Ducky and Palmer.”

Jethro groaned again and brought his hands up to rub at his eyes. “Guess it was bound to happen.”

“Probably. Besides… they were all worried about you; it’ll help them to see you at home again.”

“You’re probably right.” Jethro looked over at Tony, reaching out to smooth his hair back; it was getting a little longer than it had been for a while. Tony smiled at him, but something was a bit off. He almost looked nervous. Jethro slid his hand down to the back of Tony’s neck and squeezed gently. “What’s up?”

One corner of Tony’s mouth quirked up, and he shook his head. “Not much gets past you.” He looked at Jethro as if he were measuring something, then turned and leaned over to grab something off the nightstand. He handed Jethro a wrapped, rectangular package. “I got you something. Sort of a welcome home present.”

Jethro took the package and ran his hand over it. “Feels like a framed picture. You get a nice shot of Johnson’s corpse?”

That earned him a nervous chuckle. “Not exactly.”

Jethro tore off the paper, and stilled, just looking at the picture. Tony cleared his throat and started talking a little fast. “The original’s still down in the basement. I took it to a place this morning that makes copies and things… they made this copy, then I framed it for you. Thought you might like to have her up here too.”

Jethro ran his hand over Shannon’s smiling face. He coughed a bit, then quietly said “Thanks, Tony.”

Tony ran his hand through his own hair. “Got a confession to make, Jeth. Not sure how you’re going to feel about it.”

Jethro set the picture down on the bed and turned to face Tony, who was now clearly jittery. He reached out and grabbed Tony’s hand, stroking his thumb over the back of it. “Tony, what’s going on?”

Tony sighed and squeezed Jethro’s hand. He looked over at the picture. “You know that I only found you because Shannon was connected to you and got there first, right?”

Jethro nodded.

“Well… I was down in the basement when she came back. Her voice was really weak… she said being out in the sun kinda drained her energy, and that she might not be able to come back for a while.” Tony grimaced and looked away from Jethro’s eyes, then back. “I’m sorry.”

Jethro looked steadily at Tony, then leaned forward a bit and pulled him into a hug. Tony’s arms came up around Jethro, who brought his mouth close to Tony’s ear and whispered to him. “Don’t. Don’t apologize for doing everything you could to find me and get me out of there alive.”

Tony shook his head. “I thought maybe you’d want to be with her, be with your family again. She said it didn’t even occur to you… but maybe that’s because you know now that she’s real, and you know you can talk to her. And I took that away from you.”

Jethro sat back and grabbed on to Tony’s upper arms. “Tony.” He waited until Tony met his eyes; he could clearly see the guilt there. “Tony… she’s right. The idea of giving up and joining them never crossed my mind. And that wouldn’t have changed if she’d told me she wouldn’t be able to come back after that.” Tony’s expression showed some doubt, and Jethro wanted to shake him. Instead he let go, and tried to find the words to explain. “Look… things changed for me after you got me out of that river. I’d seen Shannon and Kelly. I told you Kelly spoke to me. Shannon didn’t, maybe because we’d talked so much over the years, and she wanted Kelly to have her say. Part of me wanted to stay with them then, but I didn’t. Kelly told me to go back, and I think on some level I knew you were trying to bring me back. I think I had a choice, and I chose to return.” Jethro sighed and ran his hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his head. “I felt more at peace after that then I had since they died. Knowing Shannon’s really been here… it helps in some ways, but it hurts in others.”

He met Tony’s eyes; the younger man looked confused. Jethro turned and picked up the framed picture. Looking down at it, he continued. “I can hear her. But I can’t see her, or touch her… in some ways, that’s just a reminder of what I’ve lost. In other ways, it makes me feel better knowing that she’s real and wherever she usually hangs out she’s happy… and Kelly’s okay.” He set the picture back down and met Tony’s eyes. “I can’t make love to her, Tony. I can’t grow old with her, can’t do new things with her. But I can do those things with you.”

Tony’s eyes searched Jethro’s for a long moment. “So it’s okay, Jeth?”

Jethro nodded. “It’s okay. Besides, she said she can’t come back for a while, not that she can’t ever come back, right?”

Tony nodded, and Jethro could see him starting to relax. He reached up and ruffled Tony’s hair, then picked up the picture again. “I’m thinking of putting this up in the living room. The three of us used to spend a lot of time there, watching movies together.”

Tony grinned at that. “I knew you couldn’t be the movie virgin you come across as.”

Jethro snorted. “Hardly a virgin, Tony. But think about it… it was mostly kids’ movies. Family stuff.”

“Huh.”

“I’m guessing you’re more a virgin in that department than I am,” Jethro commented lightly.

Tony sighed. “True.” His face lit up. “Hey, guess what I brought for us to watch!”

Jethro knew the answer, but decided to indulge Tony. “What?”

“The entire Magnum series on DVD! Now you can lose your Magnum virginity.” Tony paused, and got a faintly dyspeptic look on his face. “Actually, that conjures up some mental images that I’d really rather I never had.”

Jethro laughed. “You’re too late, Tony… I watched a bunch of episodes at the hospital yesterday. There was a marathon.”

Tony’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?! You went ahead without me? I’m hurt, Jeth.” His expression shifted to eager inquiry almost immediately, though. “So which ones was it?”

Jethro grinned. “First one had Magnum teaching some college kids –“

“Season five! Okay, Jeth – we can start with season one, right at the beginning. Did the next one have a Vietnamese kid trying to find his dad?”

“You’re scaring me, Tony.”

“C’mon, Jeth, did it?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so they were showing them in order. That’s good… you, me, the rest of the pizza, and Magnum, episode 1, in fifteen!” Tony’s grin was lighting up the room. He grabbed Jethro’s face in both hands, leaned over, gave him an enthusiastic but brief kiss on the lips, then jumped out of bed and practically danced into the bathroom.

Jethro sat back and laughed. He picked up Shannon’s picture and smiled, running his fingers over her face again. “Thanks for everything, Shan.” He set the picture down and got out of bed, smiling as he went to the dresser to get some clothes.


	35. Recovered

**Getting Reacquainted**

Jethro was having a great time watching Magnum episodes with Tony. Not because of the show itself; he could certainly understand why it appealed to Tony so much, but while it was fun it wasn’t anything he could see himself becoming obsessed over. Frankly, Jethro was having a blast watching Tony watch the show. His senior field agent, the best agent he’d ever had the privilege to work with, squirmed on the couch like a little kid. He quoted lines along with the actors and got excited over things he must have seen many times before. He’d look over at Jethro several times each episode, checking to see if Jethro had missed anything or wanting his opinion. Jethro had taken to counting the number of times Tony said something about the red Ferrari; he was closing in on twenty.

The third episode ended, and Jethro rolled his eyes as he realized that Tony was watching the _credits_ , for crying out loud. He sighed loudly, hoping to distract Tony from the screen. When that didn’t work, he reached out and tapped Tony on the shoulder.

“Just a sec, Jeth.” Tony leaned forward to grab the remote off the coffee table and hit a few buttons, bringing up the menu and starting episode four. Jethro tapped Tony on the shoulder again, and Tony dropped the remote and turned to him.

Jethro had been intending to suggest they take a break, but the happy look on Tony’s face made him pause. He realized that Tony was not just excited about watching the show; he was excited about sharing it with him. So Jethro just shook his head, smiled, and settled back to watch yet another episode. Tony grinned at him. “We’ll stop after this one, Jeth. I promise.”

 _Not much gets by you, either, does it, Tony?_

The fourth episode wasn’t as good as the first three had been, and Jethro’s attention was definitely wandering. He was getting impatient, but the things he was impatient for weren’t an option. No woodworking for a few days, and Ducky’s warning about limiting physical activity with Tony was still echoing in Jethro’s head. _Well… just because we can’t do everything doesn’t mean we can’t do anything._ Jethro sat forward a bit, moving closer to Tony, who was still caught up in the show. He tapped Tony on the shoulder again, and when Tony turned toward Jethro with an inquiring look on his face, Jethro reached up to cup his hand behind Tony’s head and pulled him in for a kiss.

He kept it light at first, just a gentle brush of his lips over Tony’s, at odds with the firm grip he had on Tony’s head. Tony responded instantly, shifting over to face him, bringing one hand up to Jethro’s face while the other braced on the back of the couch. Jethro brought his other hand to Tony’s waist, deepening the kiss while working his way underneath Tony’s t-shirt and caressing his side, running his fingers over the smooth skin. Tony’s hand slid behind Jethro’s head, and he ran his fingers through his hair while his tongue played with Jethro’s. They remained like that for several minutes, touching and tasting, until Jethro growled quietly and tried to shift closer to Tony. Tony’s hand dropped from the back of the couch to Jethro’s hip, holding him back. Tony pulled away a bit from Jethro’s mouth, and murmured into his lips, words mingling with soft kisses, “Have to be careful, Jeth… gotta take care of you.”

Jethro sat back a bit and looked into Tony’s eyes, which showed nothing but contentment. He slid his hand from Tony’s side to his groin, stroking Tony’s semi-hardness through his sweat pants, grinning a bit when Tony’s pupils dilated. Now it was Tony’s turn to growl. “Jethro –“

“Let’s go upstairs,” Jethro said quietly. “I can make you feel good and still be careful… and I’m sure you can do something for me without me having to move much.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “Now that gives me a whole bunch of ideas, Jeth… but they’ll have to wait until you’re healed up.”

Jethro grinned and lightly squeezed Tony’s erection before sitting back and then standing up. He glanced at the TV, where the episode was still playing. “Can you stand to turn off Magnum?”

“Who?” Tony asked, grabbing the remote and switching off the power.

Jethro grinned, and headed for the stairs; Tony followed after turning off the lights and checking to make sure the front door was locked.

Once they were both in the bedroom, Jethro pulled a few candles out of a dresser drawer, putting them up on top of the dresser and lighting them. Tony grinned at him. “Romantic.”

Jethro smiled back, then tilted his head toward the bed. “Lie down.”

Tony’s grin widened. “I get to go first?”

“You betcha.”

Tony stripped off his clothes and pulled the sheets down toward the foot of the bed, fluffed up a pillow, then scrambled into place, laying on his back and watching as Jethro carefully removed his own clothes. Tony frowned a bit, looking at the bandages and healing cuts. The bandage on Jethro’s left side where the knife had gotten him covered the worst of it, but he also had one on his left thigh and on his right wrist where he’d torn the skin getting loose from the ropes. The other cuts were shallow enough to have required only a few stitches or none at all, but all were still visible. Tony spoke up as Jethro climbed on the bed. “Jeth, are you sure…?” He reached out to lightly touch the side of Jethro’s neck, tracing the edges of the healing skin.

Jethro reached up to cover Tony’s fingers with his own. “I’m sure, Tony. I’ve missed this. Believe me, I don’t intend to do anything to set a full recovery back any further.”

Tony smiled. “I’ve missed you too, Jeth.”

Jethro moved to sit next to Tony, carefully leaning over to kiss him lightly on the lips. He then sat up and looked at Tony. “I think I’ll just touch you and look at you until you come. How does that sound?” Tony stared up at him, eyes wide. Jethro grinned, then reached out to take Tony’s hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed Tony’s fingers gently, then slid his hand down Tony’s arm and pushed it up above his head. “Grab onto the slats of the headboard,” he suggested. “That way you won’t forget and grab me in the wrong place.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed a bit, but he did as Jethro suggested. His breathing was speeding up a bit, and his cock was already fully erect. “Don’t think it’s gonna take very long, Jeth.”

Jethro smiled, and let his fingers trail down Tony’s arm, up into his hair, then down the side of his face and over his lips. Tony’s eyes drifted closed as Jethro ran his hand from Tony’s lips to his neck, then across his chest, spending a few moments with each nipple, rubbing and pinching a bit. Small sounds started to come from Tony’s mouth; he hummed with the lighter touches and moaned softly with the stronger ones. The muscles in his abdomen flexed as Jethro’s fingers left Tony’s chest and moved down toward his cock. Tony’s legs shifted a bit as the backs of Jethro’s fingers traced along the sides of Tony’s cock, then moved along his thighs. Jethro then cupped Tony’s balls in the palm of his hand, squeezing very gently and rolling them, making Tony’s eyes open as he tried to keep himself from moving too much and accidentally hitting Jethro in a sore spot. “Jethro, please…”

Tony looked up at his lover to find Jethro’s eyes dilated; they looked huge in the candlelight. Jethro was breathing fast and staring at Tony, love and lust combined in his gaze. Jethro glanced at Tony’s face and smiled slightly, then brought his hand up to the head of Tony’s cock, gathering pre-come into his palm and then spreading it over the length of his erection. Tony gasped when Jethro’s hand closed around him, eyes falling shut again and writhing a bit as Jethro started slowly jacking him off, increasing pressure and speed gradually, sweeping his thumb or tips of his fingers over the head at irregular intervals, spreading more lubrication. He began adding a twisting motion as well, causing Tony to groan loudly and loose the battle to stay still; Tony’s hips began pumping in time with the motion of Jethro’s hand.

“You’re gorgeous like this, Tony… so strong and capable and willing to lay still for me, letting me do this to you.”

Tony’s eyes flew open and he met Jethro’s gaze, panting harshly now, incapable of words, just looking at Jethro and gripping the headboard tightly, his cock still thrusting into Jethro’s hand.

“Come for me…. let me see you let go. C’mon Tony, please…”

Tony’s back arched and his head pushed back into the pillow. He groaned loudly as he released all over his chest and abdomen, his eyes never leaving Jethro’s. Jethro slowed the motion of his hand and gradually halted it once Tony stopped coming, still gently holding his cock while he leaned in and kissed Tony’s lips.

“Thank you.”

Tony laughed weakly. “Shouldn’t I be the one thanking you, Jeth?”

Jethro chuckled. “I think you’ll be doing that as soon as you’ve gotten your breath back.”

Tony let go of the headboard and let his arms fall to the bed. “That might take a few minutes.” He lay there, eyes closed, smiling, letting his breathing slowly return to normal.

Jethro got up and went into the bathroom, coming back with a damp washcloth and a dry towel, and cleaned Tony’s chest and abdomen. He set both towels aside on the nightstand, and sat next to Tony, running his fingers through his hair while he waited.

After a few minutes, Tony opened his eyes and grinned up at his lover. “You’re being very patient.”

Jethro shrugged, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “I can afford to be. Neither of us is going anywhere.”

Tony sat up and moved over. “Your turn. Lie down.” Jethro shifted over and lay down on his back. Tony reached out and gently laid a hand over the bandage on Jethro’s side. “You’re sure you’re up for this?”

Jethro looked pointedly down at his own engorged cock. “Sure feels like it to me.”

Tony grinned, then tapped the insides of Jethro’s thighs while moving in between his legs. Jethro shifted his legs to let Tony get into position, his breathing speeding up a bit as he realized what Tony intended to do. Tony carefully gripped Jethro’s hips, avoiding the injured area, and glanced up at Jethro’s face. “Tell me if it starts to hurt. I’ll try to keep you from moving too much.”

Jethro’s eyebrows rose, and then his head fell back onto the pillow as Tony’s tongue slowly travelled from the base of Jethro’s cock up to the tip. Jethro’s fingers tangled in Tony’s hair and he moaned softly as Tony’s mouth closed over him, licking the head and sucking lightly. Tony drew back, pressing a kiss to Jethro’s stomach, then moving quickly to engulf as much of Jethro’s cock as he could. Jethro cried out at the sensation, fingers gripping Tony’s hair, gritting his teeth as he struggled not to move his hips. Tony kept a firm grasp on him as he continued to suck and press his tongue against Jethro’s length. He began to move his head up and down, each time taking Jethro a little deeper into his mouth. Jethro swore as he felt himself hit the back of Tony’s throat; he felt Tony’s gag reflex cause his throat to spasm and he cried out again as Tony reflexively pressed against his cock and then managed to relax his throat and take Jethro further in. Jethro was dimly aware of some pain in his side as his abdominal muscles contracted involuntarily, but the pleasure he was feeling reduced it to nothing. Tony slid his lips up to the tip, lightly grazing his teeth along the sides, making Jethro growl. He strengthened his hold on Jethro’s hips, restraining him even more as he swirled his tongue around the tip and then moved quickly to completely engulf him again. He rode out the gag reflex a second time, then lowered his head even more, edging the tip of Jethro’s cock into his throat and swallowing. Jethro was gasping and moaning, fingers still tangled in Tony’s hair, unable to do anything else as the intense pleasure washed over him. His eyes flew open as he felt himself slide a little further down Tony’s throat and Tony started humming. The vibrations made him tremble and he couldn’t stop his whole body from tensing up. Then Tony swallowed again and Jethro screamed as he came hard and Tony continued to swallow as quickly as he could.

Jethro realized he must have blacked out for a moment; Tony was stretched out next to him, caressing his chest and watching him carefully. He smiled as Jethro’s eyes met his. “You feel okay?”

Jethro took a quick inventory; his side hurt a little, probably from the involuntary muscle contractions, but it was nothing serious. He told Tony so, but Tony insisted on checking, carefully separating tape from skin and lifting the bandage enough to confirm that the stitches were all in place and everything looked fine. “I hope we didn’t overdo it, Jeth.”

Jethro shook his head. “Not a chance. I feel fantastic.”

Tony laughed lightly, then got up to blow out the candles and moved so that he was lying next to Jethro’s right side. “If Ducky suspects anything tomorrow, I’ll tell him you made me do it.”

Jethro chuckled and turned toward Tony, getting into his normal position of wrapping around him. “G’night, Tony.”

“Night, Jeth.”

 **Pictures and Presents**

Jethro was in the living room, facing the wall, hammer in hand, head tilted slightly as he considered Shannon’s picture. It had taken a while to decide where to hang it, and he’d had to move a few things around, but he decided he was happy with the location. The picture was near the couch where he and his family had spent so many happy evenings, but not in a position where it was immediately visible to anyone who might walk in. He and Tony would likely be the only ones to see her, although he was sure someone on his team would notice after the party started. He didn’t think anyone would say anything, although he wouldn’t be surprised if Abby brought it up… or Palmer, for that matter, but with him it would simply be out of ignorance.

He heard the front door open and shut, and turned to see Tony coming in with several bags of groceries. They’d both decided that they should get something to contribute to the party, and Tony had ordered Jethro to stay put and rest while he went shopping. Jethro had been amused enough to comply.

Tony walked by, heading to the kitchen, grinning at Jethro as he went past. “Hey! What’cha doin’?”

Jethro held up the hammer and waved it back and forth. Tony dumped the bags on the counter and came into the living room, looking at the picture on the wall. “She looks good there,” he commented. Jethro nodded, then turned toward him.

“What did you pick up?”

Tony reached down to take Jethro’s hand and led him into the kitchen. “Mostly stuff for appetizers… some more beer, ice cream… I called Abby and she said she and Ziva are bringing the main courses, Ducky’s bringing wine, McGee is bringing some sort of dessert, and Palmer hadn’t figured it out yet.”

Jethro started pulling bags of chips and containers of salsa out of the bags. “You get the good salsa, or just that fake crap?” he asked, peering down into the bag.

Tony handed him a small plastic bag with the label from an authentic Mexican restaurant that Jethro liked. The place was tiny, hidden in a corner of a strip mall, but Jethro swore it had the best Mexican food around. “I stopped by as soon as they opened for lunch and bought a few jars for you.”

Jethro grinned and reached up to ruffle Tony’s hair. “Atta boy.” Tony rolled his eyes but smiled. His phone rang… Ride of the Valkyries. He picked it up and flipped it open.

“Hey, Abs.”

 _“Tony!”_

“Well, yeah… it is my phone.”

 _“Funny. We’ll be over in a few.”_

“Kinda early, aren’t you?”

 _“Deal with it. You kept us from the Bossman yesterday, and we need to see him. You didn’t damage him last night, did you?”_

Tony laughed and pulled the phone away from his ear, looking at Jethro. “Abby wants to know if I damaged you last night.”

Jethro rolled his eyes and walked back into the living room. Tony brought the phone back to his ear. “That got you an eye roll, Abs.”

 _“Hmm. That could be a no, or it could be a cover up for a yes. You do realize Ducky will kill you if you ripped any stitches.”_

“Don’t worry. We were careful.”

Abby squealed. _“Details!”_

“See you soon, Abs.” Tony hung up, and followed Jethro into the living room, where he was standing by the couch and looking at Shannon’s picture. Tony walked up behind him and rested his chin on Jethro’s shoulder. “Can I ask you a question?”

Jethro grunted, which Tony took to mean yes.

“Why not put up a picture of Kelly too?”

Tony felt Jethro stiffen a bit, and he brought his arms to rest gently around Jethro’s waist. “Too difficult?” he asked quietly.

Jethro nodded. He covered Tony’s hands with his own and squeezed gently before moving away. Tony let his arms drop, expecting Jethro to walk out of the room, surprised when the older man turned to face him. His eyes were a bit bright, but they met Tony’s steadily. “It’s harder to deal with her being gone. I’m her father; I should have protected her better. She’d barely started living…” Jethro’s voice trailed off, and Tony got a glimpse of how much pain Kelly’s death still caused him before Jethro visibly shut the emotions away. Jethro reached up and clapped Tony on the shoulder. “C’mon, let’s make sure there’s nothing incriminating lying around before Abby gets here.”

They had time to straighten up a few things and set out bowls of chips and salsa before the first knock on the door. Tony called out that the door was open, and they both turned to see it swing open slowly, and to hear a hesitant “Hello?”

Tony grinned as Palmer’s face came into view, peering around the door. “Autopsy Gremlin! Come on in!”

Jimmy gave him a hesitant smile and nervously stepped inside. “Hi Tony. Um, Agent Gibbs, sir…” He ducked his head.

Gibbs sighed and walked forward. “Just Gibbs, Jimmy. Not at work here. Make yourself at home.”

Jimmy gave him a wide smile. “Thanks! I’ve never been here before… of course, you know that, since it’s your home. I mean, you’d remember if you’d ever invited me over before. Uh, not that you did, actually, Abby and Ducky asked me to come… that is alright, isn’t it? I, uh, I could leave, if you’d rather.” He looked nervously from Gibbs to Tony and back.

Gibbs just stared at him, and Tony sighed. He moved forward, cuffing Gibbs lightly on the back of the head. “Stop scaring the Gremlin, Jethro.” He walked up to Jimmy, holding out his hand for him to shake. “We’re glad you came. You’re part of the team too.” Tony tapped his nose meaningfully, the signal he’d given Jimmy in the past when Gibbs had been in Mexico and Tony needed a sounding board. Jimmy relaxed and gave Tony a wide smile.

“Oh, good! I didn’t want to intrude. Uh, here. I brought a fruit and veggie platter.” He held a bag out to Tony, who took it.

“Thanks, Jimmy. Ziva and Abby will love it… what’re these?” He reached into the bag and pulled out two wrapped gifts.

“Oh! Um, those are presents. There’s one for you and one for Ag-uh, for Gibbs. Everyone’s bringing gifts, but you can’t open them until later. Abby organized it.”

Tony’s eyes lit up. “Sweet! I love presents.” He turned toward Gibbs, to see him staring at him. He flashed him a big smile. “Gonna get me back for the head slap now or later?”

Gibbs smiled at him, then turned to Jimmy. “Of course you’re welcome here, Jim. Tony’s right, you’re part of the team too.”

Jimmy’s smile just about lit up the room.

The door swung open and Abby bounced through. “Gibbs!! You’re okay!”

Gibbs stared at her. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, it’s been a while, and we all know how Tony’s sex drive is out of control, so I thought maybe he’d have been a bit much last night and you might have still been in bed getting over it.”

Gibbs turned to Tony. “Never, ever make deals with Abby again without involving me.”

“Gotcha, Boss.”

Gibbs shook his head and grinned at him. He walked up to Abby and kissed her cheek. “Thanks for caring, Abs.”

She smiled at him, then saw the wrapped packages Tony was holding. “Don’t touch those, mister!”

“Should I just drop them on the floor?”

“No! Here, give me those and you take this,” she nodded to the baking dish in her hands. The exchange was made, and she went into the living room with the wrapped packages.

The others arrived in short order. Ziva, Abby and Ducky were busy in the kitchen, while Gibbs, Tony, McGee and Jimmy stood around the living room coffee table, eating chips. Jimmy asked Gibbs if he was building a new boat, and Gibbs took him downstairs to show him the plans for Tony’s cabinet. Tony and McGee watched them go, then grinned at each other.

“Gibbs is being great to Palmer,” McGee commented.

Tony nodded. “He’s making up for getting him all nervous when he first got here.”

McGee studied him for a moment. Tony looked back at him, then raised an eyebrow. “Stop McScrutinizing me. If you want to say something, say it.”

McGee grinned at him. “Just that I think Gibbs is good for you.”

Tony looked surprised. “How so?”

“You’re more real.”

“I’m not a wooden puppet, Tim.”

“Really? Huh. Coulda sworn… no, look, I mean that you aren’t acting out as much as you used to. You’re more settled.”

Tony considered that, then looked at McGee. “That a good thing?”

“Defintely,” McGee answered fervently. “I think as long as you and Gibbs are happy, the chances that I’ll get glued to something again go way down.”

Tony smirked. “You could be right, Probie.”

McGee sighed at the nickname, but didn’t say anything about it. “And you’re good for Gibbs too. Look at him with Palmer… and his phone manners have improved. Are you giving him lessons?”

Tony scoffed at that. “We have much, much, _much_ better things to do together than discuss phone etiquette, McSilly.”

“Do NOT give me details.”

“Wasn’t gonna.”

“Thank you.”

Ducky walked into the room. “Where has Jethro disappeared to? I want to take a look at that knife wound.”

Tony gestured toward the door to the basement. “Took Palmer downstairs to see the latest project.”

“Really?” Ducky looked pleased. “That will make Mr. Palmer quite happy. He admires Jethro very much. I shan’t interrupt them.” He walked closer to Tony and McGee. “And how are you doing, Anthony?”

“I’m great, Ducky.”

Ducky looked him over, then smiled and patted his arm. “Excellent, most excellent. I am glad you two have worked things out.”

Tony looked surprised at that. “Did you doubt us?”

Ducky considered that before looked up at Tony. “A little, my boy. Just a little. You are both extraordinarily stubborn men. I am glad to see that your skills in conflict resolution are stronger than his.”

“Takes two to resolve a conflict, Duck.”

They all turned to see Gibbs standing behind them, and Palmer disappearing into the kitchen.

“And it wasn’t really a conflict so much as a negotiation, Ducky,” Tony added. He and Gibbs grinned at each other, holding their gazes for several seconds.

Ducky and McGee looked back and forth between them and then at each other, smiling. “They are in love, Timothy,” Ducky said, in a loud whisper.

Still looking at Tony, Gibbs spoke up. “Don’t think that our long-standing friendship makes you immune to head slaps, Duck.”

Ducky chuckled. “Oh, I’m well aware of that, Jethro. Do you remember the time when you were undercover in that brothel…”

Tony whirled toward Ducky. “Gibbs was undercover in a brothel?! When? Why? He wasn’t a gigolo, was he? Was he?!”

Gibbs reached out and head slapped Tony. “Workin’ security, DiNozzo. Bouncer.”

Tony sighed, reaching up to rub the back of his head. He looked vaguely disappointed. “Could have been awesome material for role play later, Jethro.”

“Oh, god,” McGee said, and he left the room quickly.

Tony grinned wickedly at Gibbs, who was having a hard time repressing his own smile. Ducky laughed and motioned to Gibbs. “I do want to check you over, Jethro, before Abby decides to truly get the party started.”

“Tell ya later, Tony,” Gibbs said with a wink, as he led Ducky out of the room. Tony turned toward the picture of Shannon. “Did you know about this?” He grinned again, his imagination going in all sorts of interesting directions.

“Who are you talking to?”

Tony turned to see Ziva carrying a pile of presents, Abby not far behind her with another pile. “Clear off the table, please, Tony. Abby wants the presents to go there.”

Tony complied, eager to get to the gifts. The women arranged them into two piles. Each wrapped package had either Tony’s or Gibbs’ name on it, and each said whom it was from. Tony rubbed his hands together. “This is awesome.”

Ziva smiled at him. “I do not know if Gibbs will agree with you.”

Tony looked at her, puzzled, then looked toward Gibbs and Ducky as they walked back into the room. “Are we going to live?” he asked Gibbs. Gibbs grinned, then nodded. Ducky smiled at Tony. “I am pleased to see that you were able to restrain your baser instincts, Anthony.”

Tony just raised an eyebrow and looked at Gibbs, who smirked at him and moved forward, raising his hand for Tony to give him a high five. Abby laughed in delight, while Ziva looked confused. Abby turned to Ducky, “I told you they’d find a way, Ducky!” Ducky sighed, sending a disappointed look at the two men, then dug into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and removing a twenty dollar bill, which he handed to Abby.

Gibbs stared. “You and Abby bet on whether we had sex last night?”

Abby merely grinned at him. Ducky sighed. “I should have known better than to bet with her on matters of passion.”

Tony laughed, while Gibbs looked somewhat frazzled. Abby trotted over to the kitchen and called for McGee and Palmer to join them.

McGee walked in warily. “Are they done with the sex talk?”

Abby whirled around. “There was talk? And I missed it?”

Gibbs dropped his head and muttered something. Tony just grinned, enjoying being the center of attention.

Abby moved forward and began directing. “Tony and Gibbs, you sit on the couch. Ducky, you get that arm chair. The rest of us can sit wherever. They all did as directed, with McGee, Palmer and Ziva ending up sitting on the floor while Abby pulled a chair forward so that she was next to the couch. She sat down. “We’ll start with the hero of this afternoon’s festivities,” she declared.

Tony looked expectantly at Gibbs, who just looked back at him. “That would be you, Tony,” he pointed out.

Tony looked around at all the others. “Wait, what? I’m never the hero –“

Abby jumped out of her chair and gave him a hug. “You are so. Especially this time. You found Gibbs in time, Tony! You’re so the hero.” She let go of him and sat back down.

Tony grinned. “All right! Can I make a speech?”

A chorus of voices rang out. “No!”

Tony pouted for a moment, but grinned when Gibbs reached out and ran his fingers through Tony’s hair. Tony winked at Ziva when he saw her looking at them, a speculative expression on her face. “So, where do I start?”

Abby looked at the pile of presents, then pulled one out. “Start here, this one’s from me.”

Tony ripped into the paper and opened the box, pulling out a large stainless steel travel mug, with the words ‘World’s Greatest Hero’ on it on one side, and the words ‘Bossman’s Savior’ on the other side. He grinned and got up to give Abby a hug. “This is great, Abs! Thanks.”

Abby smiled as Gibbs picked up the mug to look at it. Tony grabbed it back. “Mine. I’m the hero.” Gibbs rolled his eyes, but was clearly enjoying seeing Tony having such a good time. She handed Tony the next package. “This one’s from Jimmy.”

Jimmy sat up, eagerly watching as Tony ripped into this package. Tony’s jaw dropped as he held up the shirt. “Jimmy, you rock! Gibbs, you recognize this?”

Gibbs looked at the shirt carefully. “Wasn’t Magnum wearing that?”

Tony grinned at him. “You rock too, Gibbs! Yeah, it’s a genuine replica. I gotta put it on!” He stood, removing his shirt and replacing it with the Magnum shirt. He sat back down, still grinning. “I’ve always wanted one of these, Jimmy! Thanks, man.”

Jimmy blushed. “I figured, since he was your hero, it would be a cool present.”

Tony grinned at him and reached out a closed fist; he and Jimmy bumped knuckles.

“If you’re done flashing everyone, maybe you could get to the next present,” Gibbs suggested dryly.

Tony turned toward him. “Are you jealous?”

Gibbs grinned. “Nope, just a possessive bastard.”

McGee groaned. “If you guys are gonna get touchy feely, I’m going in the kitchen.”

Abby glared at McGee. “No one is leaving! Next present, Tony!”

He reached out and grabbed the one from McGee. “Is it a sex manual, McGee?”

McGee sighed. “No, Tony, it’s not a sex manual. I doubt you need any help in that area.”

Tony grinned at him. “Way to feed the ego, McWingman!” He got the present open, and found several electronic components. “What…?”

McGee leaned forward. “It’s a tracking device. You put this part on Gibbs, and you use this,” he tapped the part that was about the size of a cell phone, “to track where he is. Range is up to about a half mile, although I could probably tweak that and make it longer.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed as he picked up the tracking device. “Hey Ducky, could we implant this?”

Gibbs snorted while Ducky leaned forward. “I do believe we could do something subcutaneous, Anthony. Of course, I would need Jethro’s permission…”

Gibbs rolled his eyes and leaned forward, grabbing the next gift and handing it to Tony. It was from Ziva. Tony looked at her and smiled, then ripped open the paper. “A taser!”

“It is for you to use on Gibbs if he should ever disregard your orders again when in your protective custody. I thought it would be better than shooting him.”

Tony got up and gave Ziva a hug, which she returned happily. He grinned at her and sat back down, then held up the taser and looked at Gibbs, eyebrows raised. Gibbs stared back at Tony. “You ready for the consequences if you use that thing on me, DiNozzo?”

Tony looked from Gibbs to the taser and back, then carefully put it off to the side. He looked down at the coffee table. “Oh, look! There’s one more!” Gibbs grinned as Tony reached out to open Ducky’s gift.

Abby squealed as Tony held up a collar and matching six foot lead. Everyone turned to stare at Ducky. “Don’t suppose there’s a dog to go with that, Duck,” Gibbs said evenly.

“No indeed,” Ducky said. “You worried us all terribly, Jethro. We thought you were dead, or dying. I thought this gift appropriate given your propensity to run off on your own. Anthony needs all the help he can get.”

Tony was failing miserably at suppressing his grin. “Well, Gibbs, you can choose… the taser or the collar.”

Gibbs glared at him. Abby and Ziva were giggling, and even Palmer and McGee were trying not to laugh. Ducky looked around, confused. “I must admit, I fail to see what is so humorous…”

Abby turned to Ducky. “Um, Duckman… leashes and collars are commonly used in certain, um… for some bedroom activities.”

“Oh, dear.” Ducky turned back to Tony and Gibbs. “I assure you, gentlemen, it was not my intention for this gift to be taken in such a context.”

Tony could not stop smiling. “Oh, no, Ducky, it’s perfect. Great color… it matches Gibbs’ eyes.”

Gibbs reached out and grabbed the collar and leash, tossing it in back of the couch. “Let’s move this party along, Abby.”

Abby bit her lips, trying to stop giggling. Ziva put on a serious face, while McGee and Palmer coughed and cleared their throats. Ducky appeared to be smiling behind his mortified expression. Tony looked at Gibbs, and whispered, “I see you didn’t throw them out, Jethro.”

Gibbs shrugged. “Might get a dog some day.”

Tony snorted and sat back.

Abby grabbed one of the presents on the second pile and held it out to Gibbs. “Your turn, Gibbsy!” He stared at her. “Gibbs, sir, Boss!”

He sighed and took the wrapped present. He opened it up and found a book. “Self Defense for Dummies?” He glanced at the wrapping paper, then over at Ziva, who looked at him seriously.

“Johnson should not have gotten the fall on you, Gibbs.”

“Drop, Ziva,” McGee said.

“Yes, he should not have gotten the drop on you.”

Gibbs tilted his head. “You’re right about that, Ziva.” He nodded to her, then put the book down on the coffee table and grabbed the next gift. “This one’s from Palmer.” He opened it up and found a bottle of vitamin E capsules. He shot a confused look at Jimmy, who stammered out an explanation. “Uh, vitamin E is good for healing tissue. You rub it on, and it helps prevent scarring. My mother’s dog got bitten in the face once, and she used vitamin E, and there was no sign of an injury later.”

Tony spoke up. “Goes well with Ducky’s gift.”

Gibbs head slapped him lightly. “Thanks, Jimmy. Appreciate it.”

Jimmy smiled and nodded. Gibbs picked up the next gift, which was from Ducky. He opened it and pulled out a hearing aid. Sighing, he looked over at his friend. “Perhaps you will listen to us more carefully in the future,” was Ducky’s only comment. Gibbs shook his head, but had a bit of a smile on his face. The next gift was from McGee: another book. “‘How to Survive Anything, Anywhere.’ Nice one, McGee.”

McGee raised his beer and saluted Gibbs. Gibbs chuckled and reached for the last gift, a large box from Abby. He opened it and pulled out a stuffed hippo. “This isn’t –“

“Oh, no, it’s not Bert. It’s Bert’s cousin – or close relative. I thought you could use him.”

“Thanks, Abs.” He looked around the room. “I do get the point.”

They all looked back at him seriously. “We all care about you Jethro,” Ducky said. “Please take that into account the next time you’re tempted to do something rash.”

Gibbs nodded and went to stand up, but Abby threw out her hand to stop him. “Wait, there’s more!” She got up and ran to her bag, which was sitting next to the wall. She pulled out an envelope and ran back, handing it to Tony. He took it and showed it to Gibbs… it said ‘For Tibbs’ on the front. Gibbs motioned for Tony to open it; inside was a handmade gift certificate, on which was printed the following: This Certificate Entitles Jethro Gibbs and Tony DiNozzo to an All Expenses Paid Weekend Away at the Vacation Spot of Their Choice. From Abby, Ziva, McGee, Ducky and Jimmy.

Tony stared at it, then handed it to Gibbs, watching him as he read it. Gibbs’ eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at Tony before looking over at the rest of the team. Abby looked like she was about to explode with excitement, while the rest of them were smiling. Gibbs looked back down at the certificate, then handed it back to Tony. “Thank you,” he said seriously.

Tony, on Gibbs’ six as always, jumped in immediately. “Guys, this is, wow, this is great! Are you sure…?”

Ducky spoke up. “We are your friends, Tony, and while we were all worried, you were both put through the wringer.”

Abby took up the explanation. “Yeah, and Tony needed time away – and I so get that now, I really do – and we thought that both of you could use some time away, but together, so we’re all chipping in.”

McGee spoke up. “We just want you guys to know we support you… all of us.” Tony grinned at him.

Ziva spoke up. “It is for any weekend you like, when we are not on call.”

Jimmy looked around and seemed to feel that he should say something. “So, uh, enjoy it. Really.”

Everyone got to their feet, and handshakes, back slaps, and hugs were exchanged all around. Tony glanced at Gibbs and saw that he was getting a bit twitchy, so he motioned to Abby. “Better get on with the food,” he suggested quietly, “before the Boss makes a run for the basement.”

Abby looked over at Gibbs, then back at Tony, and smiled. She raised her voice. “Who’s ready to eat?” It seemed everyone was hungry, so Abby herded the group into the kitchen, issuing instructions to Tony to set the table in the dining room and to the others to get the food ready.

Gibbs remained behind and watched them all get busy. As much as he appreciated his team and the efforts they were making, he could really use a few minutes to himself. He looked down at the presents and smiled, then he grabbed the taser and put it in his gun safe. Walking back toward the couch, he picked up his beer and took a drink, looking at Shannon’s picture. He heard Abby come in to the room, and put his arm around her as she came up next to him. “That’s Shannon, right?”

Gibbs nodded and pressed a kiss to her head. “Uh huh.”

“You put that picture up recently?”

“Just today. Tony had it framed for me.”

Abby laid her head on his shoulder and sniffled a bit. “You guys are amazing together. He’s so good for you, Gibbs.”

“Thanks, Abs.”

“I mean it! Look at you, hanging out with all of us voluntarily like this. And you were such a good sport about the gifts.”

“I’m trying. ‘S not easy.”

“I know.” She hugged him. “I think it’s great that you’re sharing as much as you are. You’re more open, and you seem happier. Are you happier?”

Gibbs turned to look at her, and gave her a warm smile. “Yeah, Abs, I’m happier.”

Abby smiled back, grabbed his hand, and led him into the dining room.


	36. Figured Out...?

**Sunday Morning Memories**

Tony lay in bed Sunday morning, absently stroking Jethro’s back and listening to him snoring softly, his head resting on Tony’s shoulder. Yesterday’s party had been beyond Tony’s hopes, really pulling the team together. The fact that Jethro had been as open as he had, high fiving Tony about their sexcapades for one thing, had been mind-boggling.

There had been so many highlights. He thought back to late last night, when everyone had been getting ready to leave. Abby and Jimmy had been having a quiet yet animated conversation on and off throughout the evening; Tony had picked up a pattern in that it seemed to happen right after Jethro spoke to Jimmy about something, but despite his best attempts at eavesdropping, he hadn’t managed to find out what was going on. Then Jimmy was saying his goodbyes, and Jethro reached out to shake his hand.

 _“Take care, Jim. Thanks for coming.”_

 _“Uh, Ag-, I mean, Gibbs… it’s Jimmy, not Jim. I actually really don’t like being called Jim. Kind of a long story... which I’m sure you don’t need to hear.”_

 _Jethro had tilted his head to one side, then reached out again to clap Jimmy on the shoulder. “Won’t happen again, Jimmy.”_

 _Jimmy had smiled, but then suddenly looked worried. “Uh, does that mean you won’t invite me back, so that you won’t have occasion to call me Jim anymore?”_

 _Jethro had laughed, shaking his head. “No, it doesn’t, Jimmy. You‘re part of the team, remember? Means I won’t forget.”_

 _Jimmy had stood just a little taller and grinned at everyone before he walked out._

Jethro shifted in his sleep, nuzzling into Tony’s neck. He mumbled something that Tony tried to catch, but couldn’t. Jethro’s arm tightened a bit around Tony’s side, and Tony reached over and gently ran his fingers through Jethro’s hair. The older man settled down and his breathing quieted. Tony removed his hand before his petting woke Jethro, resting it on the arm Jethro had slung across Tony’s waist. He closed his eyes and smiled as he continued thinking about the party.

 _Abby was about to say her goodbyes, but then ran, or rather clomped, into the living room and back, bringing the stuffed hippo to Jethro._

 _She shoved the hippo into Jethro’s arms. “You have to name him, Gibbs!”_

 _Jethro got a funny expression on his face and just stared at the hippo for a moment, then looked over at Abby. “What if it’s a her?”_

 _Abby’s eyes narrowed. “He’s a he. I was thinking masculine thoughts when I got him for you.”_

 _Tony opened his mouth to comment, but Jethro tapped him on the head before he could say anything. He simply grinned at Jethro and then at Abby, who smirked at him and then turned back to Jethro._

 _“I mean it, Gibbs! He needs a name!”_

 _“I’ll have to think about it and get back to you.”_

 _“You could always name it Ernie,” Tony suggested helpfully. He got a head slap and an arm punch for that one._

 _Abby looked seriously at Gibbs. “Make it a good name, Gibbs. He’s there to remind you that we all love you. Not the way Tony does, of course, ‘cause that would be hinky and make Tony jealous, but you’re really, really important to us and you should remember that the next time you decide to do something stupid! Well, you wouldn’t do something stupid, not really, ‘cause you’re Gibbs and you’re not stupid, but –“_

 _Jethro cut her off by pulling her into a hug. “Thanks, Abs.”_

 _Abby grinned and hugged him fiercely. “I’m just glad you’re okay. Stay that way!” She pulled back, hugged Tony, then went to leave. Turning around, she pointed at the stuffed toy still in Jethro’s hands. “Name, Gibbs! Monday!”_

Jethro’s sleep-filled voice brought Tony out of his reverie. “Wha’ time s’it?”

Tony smiled, thinking Jethro was really cute all sleepy like that. “Early still. Sleep.”

“Y’sure?”

“Yup. I’m happy we can be here like this. Go back to sleep.”

“’kay.”

Jethro shifted a bit, careful of his injured side even though he was maybe only a third awake, pressed a kiss to Tony’s neck, and went boneless in that way that told Tony he’d already fallen back to sleep.

Tony’s thoughts returned to the party. His eavesdropping skills had paid off when he’d managed to hear a conversation between Ziva and McGee by hiding around a corner while people were cleaning up after dinner, before dessert was brought out.

 _“McGee, I wish to talk to you.”_

 _“Um… okay. What’s up?”_

 _“I am concerned about your reaction to Tony and Gibbs being together. I had thought you worked through your difficulties, but now I am not so sure.”_

 _“Wait, what? What makes you think I have problems with them? I’m fine with it.”_

 _Ziva sighed. “You act all… hinky, whenever anyone talks about them having sex.”_

 _“Oh, that.”_

 _“Yes, that! They are letting us share in their happiness, and I do not think you are reacting the way they would wish.”_

 _“Ziva, it’s not what you think.” There was a moment of silence, and Tony could imagine the expression on Ziva’s face as she stared at McGee. “No, really… okay, look. I admit that it’s still a little weird to think about Gibbs and Tony being together, but it doesn’t bother me, not really. I’m just trying to yank Tony’s chain a bit, that’s all.”_

 _“Tony is wearing jewelry?”_

 _McGee snorted. “No… it’s an expression. I’m just trying to get back at him a bit for all the hard times he’s given me about dating, or not dating, or telling women at the office that I’m gay…”_

 _“Well… I do not think you have really thought that through. Do you realize that by teasing Tony about his relationship with Gibbs, you are also teasing Gibbs about his relationship with Tony?”_

 _“Um…”_

 _“And that it would be very easy to misinterpret this chain yank as true discomfort? They are trusting us with their private life, McGee, and I doubt that it is easy for either one of them to do. Perhaps you could… pull a little more gently?”_

 _“Yeah, you may be right. Thanks, Ziva.”_

Tony’s mind then flashed forward to dessert and what he considered the real high point of the evening, even better than being called the hero or getting presents.

 _Abby finished placing dessert at everyone’s place, and they all sat down. Jethro leaned over to whisper in Tony’s ear, “The real dessert will come later,” and the two men grinned at each other, then turned toward the rest of the guests. The conversations around the room came to a sudden halt, as everyone sat astonished at the repetitive clinking sound of Ziva’s spoon tapping against her wine glass. Everyone stared at her, and Ducky chuckled._

 _“Ziva!” Abby called out. “That’s the signal for couples to kiss… you know, at wedding receptions.”_

 _Ziva smiled serenely and stopped tapping, looking over at Tony and Jethro. “I know it is customary at weddings, but I do not see why there should be such a limitation. I, for one, would greatly enjoy witnessing a public display of their commitment to each other.” She grinned wickedly at Tony, who grinned back despite turning a bit red. A glance at Jethro showed his jaw hanging slightly open and a reddish tint spreading up his neck and onto his face._

 _McGee suddenly grinned at Tony, picked up his spoon, and started to tap his own glass. Within seconds the room was filled with tapping, clinking, and a few words of encouragement from Abby._

 _Tony turned to Jethro, who looked a bit pained. “Whaddya say, Marine?”_

 _Jethro shook his head, frowning slightly. “Not interested in putting on a show, Tony.”_

 _Tony leaned in, speaking quietly under all the noise. “It’s not really a show, Jeth. They just want to know that we’re okay. I don’t mind, but if you really don’t want to…”_

 _Jethro looked at Tony, then sighed. He reached out and grabbed a fist full of Tony’s new shirt, then pulled him close. Tony expected a quick peck on the lips, but was surprised when Jethro’s lips slid softly over his own. His eyes closed and he brought his hands up to frame Jethro’s face. Jethro let go of Tony’s shirt and moved his hand up, his fingers running through Tony’s hair, his other hand resting on Tony’s shoulder. Jethro’s mouth opened, and Tony’s tongue slid in, caressing and tasting. The kiss deepened further, and Tony was dimly aware of the clinking sounds faltering then stopping altogether. Jethro pulled Tony even closer, his fingers tightening in Tony’s hair for a moment before he hummed softly, then slowly pulled back, resting his forehead against Tony’s. Then he let go of his lover and turned to his dessert, picking up his spoon and getting a mouthful of ice cream. He glanced at Tony, who was smiling happily, then looked up at everyone’s gaping faces. “What?!”_

 _Abby laughed, delighted, while Ziva smiled and turned to her own dessert. Ducky raised his glass and saluted the two men, and McGee grinned at them while Palmer stammered something and focused intently on his ice cream._

Tony grinned at the memory, and his grin turned slightly calculating as he realized that there hadn’t been any real dessert later on… Jethro had been exhausted by the time they’d made it to bed, and had quickly and apologetically drifted off to sleep. Tony decided to make it a top priority to do something about that some time during the course of the day. He wouldn’t interrupt Jethro’s sleep; the man was still recovering from his ordeal at Johnson’s hands. Tony starting thinking about what they could do once Jethro was all healed up… that brought his thoughts back to the collar and leash Ducky had given him, that he’d fished out from behind the couch while most everyone was busy with clean up in the kitchen.

 _Tony straightened up with the collar and leash in his hands, wanting to take it upstairs and hide it before Jethro could decide to throw it out. He turned toward the stairs, stopping as he saw Ducky smiling at him. Tony’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not nearly as shocked by everyone’s interpretation of this gift as you let on, are you, Ducky?”_

 _Ducky laughed. “My dear boy, do you honestly believe me to be so clueless, given my age and my profession?”_

 _Tony grinned. “Think I’ll survive if I actually do put this on him?”_

 _Ducky shrugged, his eyes twinkling. “You’ll never know until you try.”_

A soft hum aborted that particular memory, and Tony realized that Jethro was clumsily caressing his side. Tony’s eyebrows shot up as Jethro’s hips moved forward, pressing his hardening cock up against Tony’s leg. Jethro muttered Tony’s name, and Tony laughed quietly as he realized that Jethro was having a sex dream about him. _Wasn’t gonna wake him… but can’t let the opportunity go to waste._

Tony shifted a bit from his back to his side, reaching down to stroke Jethro’s erection. His lover groaned and tried to move closer, mumbling something indistinct and rubbing his face against Tony’s shoulder. Tony gripped just a bit harder, and managed to move the arm that Jethro was lying on enough to slide his hand down Jethro’s back and over his ass, squeezing lightly, pulling Jethro against him and adding a twist to his wrist while he slowly jacked his cock.

Jethro came awake with a gasp, eyes wide for a moment, then he whispered Tony’s name and lightly bit his neck. Tony hummed happily. “So what were you dreaming about?”

“Silly question,” Jethro growled, as he reached for Tony’s cock and started returning the favor. He shifted up a bit so that he could reach Tony’s mouth more comfortably, and began kissing him demandingly. “Wanna come fast,” he muttered.

“Okay,” Tony whispered, and then he let go of Jethro’s cock and carefully rolled him over, straddling him and keeping his weight off the injured side. Jethro’s hand slid off of Tony’s cock as he automatically moved to steady himself, and Tony shifted a bit so that their erections were pressed together. Both men groaned at the sensation, and Tony used his arms to brace himself as he began thrusting against Jethro, trying not to jostle him too much but suddenly desperate for release. Jethro grabbed Tony’s hips and started to thrust as well, trying to match Tony’s rhythm, but had to stop at the sudden pain in his side. Tony slowed down at Jethro’s hiss of indrawn breath, leaning in and kissing him hard on the mouth. “Let me do the work.”

Jethro nodded and lay back, still gripping Tony’s hips but trying to force himself to lie still. Tony nipped Jethro’s bottom lip, then pressed against him as he increased the pace of his hips’ motion. “This – okay?” he panted. Jethro nodded, then pushed his head back against the pillow and stiffened his whole body, holding himself steady, pressing harder against Tony. Both men were breathing fast as their cocks slid more easily against each other, gliding with the help of the copious fluid they were already releasing. A few seconds later, Tony could feel his orgasm coming on, and ground down against Jethro, who cried out with pleasure as he began to come. Tony followed rapidly behind, calling out Jethro’s name, and then they both lay there, sweaty and breathing hard.

Tony lifted his head to look at Jethro. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Jethro shook his head rapidly. “No… no, I’m fine, Tony. As long as I don’t try to move too much, I’m okay.”

Tony sighed and dropped his head back down. “I’m ready to go back to sleep. You?”

Jethro grinned. “Sure, now that I’ve had dessert.”

Tony chuckled and nipped Jethro’s shoulder before shifting over and wrapping his arms around him. Jethro moved back into his usual position with his head on Tony’s shoulder. “We’re all sticky.”

“Uh huh.”

“You really don’t care?”

Tony shook his head. “Sleepy.”

Jethro smiled slightly and made a mental note to do some laundry after they woke up.

 **Sunday Afternoon In The Basement**

Jethro ran his fingers gently over the wood panel, hunting for spots in need of more sanding. He glanced over at Tony and smiled at the sight of him so intensely focused on his own sanding. Then he dropped his gaze to the stuffed hippo at Tony’s feet; the younger man had brought it downstairs with them in a fit of whimsicality.

“Hey, Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“You know those Muppet things?”

Tony looked up. “Not personally.”

“Funny man. Seriously, do you remember that show?”

“Sure.” Tony was looking at him strangely.

“Do you remember the name of the one with the long crooked nose?”

“Umm… yeah. Gonzo, right?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Thanks.”

Jethro went back to sanding, trying not to smile as he felt Tony’s eyes on him. He started a mental countdown.

“Jethro!”

“Hmm?”

“C’mon. You have to tell me why you wanted to know that.” Tony’s voice was perilously close to a whine.

Jethro grinned, then pointed at the stuffed toy. “Name for the hippo. I’ve got a deadline.”

Tony looked down, then back up at Jethro. “What on earth made you think of Gonzo?”

Jethro smiled slightly and gazed off into space. “That weird thing was Kelly’s favorite character on the show.”

Tony’s eyes widened, and then he smiled. “That’s cool. Will you tell Abby where the name came from?”

Jethro pulled out of the memories and looked at Tony. “Yeah, I think I will.”

“She’ll like that.”

“Yeah.”

They went back to sanding for a while.

“Hey, Jeth?”

“Mmm?”

“You had a funny look on your face when Abby told you to give Gonzo a name.”

Jethro smiled; he’d wondered if Tony had picked up on that, and wasn’t at all surprised that he had. “When Kelly was six, she gave me a stuffed animal for my birthday… some kind of cat. She insisted that I name it.”

Tony leaned forward. “What name did you give it?”

“I think I called it Fluffy.”

Tony smirked at that. “Very creative.”

Jethro reached down to pick up a small piece of wood and lobbed it at Tony, who dodged easily. They both went back to sanding. About fifteen minutes later, Tony spoke again.

“Jethro?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really sorry about Shannon not being back yet.”

“How do you know she’s not back?”

“Oh.” Tony shifted uncomfortably. “I just assumed…”

“Forgetting the rules, Tony?”

“Uh, no, Boss.”

Jethro looked up and shot him a warm smile. “You’re right, though… I haven’t heard anything from her, so I guess she still needs more time… wherever she is.”

Tony nodded. Jethro resumed sanding, but stopped after a few minutes when he realized he wasn’t hearing Tony doing the same. He glanced over to see Tony staring off into space, a confused look on his face. “What’s up, Tony?”

Tony looked at Jethro, opened his mouth to say something, hesitated, then closed his mouth again and shrugged.

“Tony.”

He capitulated quickly. “It’s just… I just had this thought. I mean… now we know that there’s something after we die – and we’re still us. I mean, it seems that way, ‘cause Shannon’s still Shannon…”

Jethro nodded when Tony looked at him, tilting his head slightly, indicated for him to continue.

“So… what happens when we’ve both crossed over to wherever, and you’re there and I’m there and Shannon’s there… I mean, who gets you?”

Jethro was torn between amusement that Tony’s thoughts went in that direction and happiness that Tony was assuming they were going to stay together over the long term. “Maybe the two of you can fight over me.”

“Not funny, Jeth.”

“Tony… don’t worry about it. She likes you, you seem to like her… I love you both. It’ll work out.”

Tony stared at him for a moment. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

“Me neither.”

Tony was apparently just getting warmed up. “I mean, we don’t even know if we’ll end up in the same place. And what are the rules? Do we get to stay together? Is there sex after death? Please tell me there’s sex after death!”

Jethro laughed. “I suppose we could ask Shannon at some point, although I might not like the answer.”

Tony thought about that, then nodded seriously. “I see your point.”

“Hmm. How about we talk about something else?”

“Okay.” Tony went back to sanding, then suddenly his head shot up. “You have _got_ to tell me about going undercover in a brothel! Pleeeease?”

Jethro grinned. “We were tracking a drug ring operating out of Norfolk. We were able to trace the activity back to the base, but not exactly who was involved. Evidence indicated that the brothel was a distribution center… we managed to get an informant from inside, and Ducky and I went in undercover… I worked security and Ducky was a rich client who was interested in investing in the place. He would meet with the informant under the guise of paying for her usual services.”

Tony’s eyes were wide. “Did he…?”

Jethro shook his head. “Of course not. He taught her to play chess once information changed hands.”

Tony grinned. “So, the implication was that you gave him a head slap?”

Jethro nodded. “Oh, yeah. As part of his negotiations with ownership, he brought up the idea of expanding from offering only women to their clients… suggested they look into hiring men as well. Then he got the bright idea of suggesting that their newest bouncer might fit the bill.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yup. Ownership approached me, I declined. Then the next time I saw Duck back at the Navy Yard, I head slapped him. Only time, too.”

Tony grinned. “I’d have paid for you.”

“Good to know. If I’m ever hard up for cash, I can start charging.”

Tony grinned, and Jethro could see the wheels spinning in his head. He decided to head off whatever plans Tony was forming. “We were eventually able to identify the petty officers involved in the drug ring, and used them to trace back to the source. Also figured out that some of the girls were earning extra cash by distributing to clients – ownership was clueless. They were actually pretty grateful when they found out what we were really up to; they were able to stay in business because someone high up here in town owed ownership a favor… they even offered me the job again.”

Tony grinned at that. “You certainly have the talent for it.”

Jethro rolled his eyes and went back to sanding.

 **Sunday Evening**

Hours later they were still at it. They’d gotten hungry and ordered in, then gone right back to the basement. Jethro wanted to get to a certain point with the cabinet before heading to bed. Tony had tried a few times to convince him that he needed some rest before going back to work, but Jethro had shot that argument down, pointing out that he was going to be stuck on desk duty anyway for at least a week. After a while, Tony put his own tools and wood down, and walked over to the workbench where Jethro was modifying the plans for the cabinet.

Resting his chin on Jethro’s shoulder and encircling his waist with his arms, he watched for a moment, then commented on the time. Jethro was deep in thought and didn’t answer. Tony sighed and said he was just going to run upstairs for a minute. Jethro grunted to show that he’d heard him, and continued to focus on his work.

A few minutes later he felt something on his neck and heard a snap, then felt a mild tug. He whirled around, grabbing the leash Tony was holding. “Are you nuts?!” he exclaimed.

Tony shot him a nervous smile. “Probably,” he admitted. “But you’re still recovering, and Vance has never actually officially cancelled me as protection detail. You need rest.” Tony tugged on the leash again, which wasn’t all that effective since Jethro was holding on to it. Jethro glared at him and reached up to undo the collar, when Tony spoke, lowering his voice. “C’mon, Jeth… let me play with my present a bit?”

Jethro hesitated, then dropped his hand from the collar. He tugged on the leash, and Tony moved closer, until he was close enough for Jethro to lean forward just a little and place a light kiss on his lips. “Okay, Tony. You can play a little.”

Tony grinned and backed up, pulling gently on the leash. Jethro sighed and moved forward, following as Tony slowly walked backwards. Tony made his way through the house and to the bedroom like that, tugging a bit every time Jethro slowed down. Jethro kept his eyes on Tony’s, challenging him just a little every time he felt a pull around his neck. They reached the bedroom, where Tony stopped next to the bed and slowly reeled Jethro in, wrapping the leash around his hand and gripping Jethro’s hair, holding his head still as he kissed him slowly and passionately. Jethro returned the kiss but kept his hands at his side, waiting to see what Tony wanted to do. Tony just kept kissing him, moving from Jethro’s lips to his face and then back. Finally he dipped his head and kissed Jethro’s neck, then grabbed the collar in his teeth and growled, at which point Jethro couldn’t help but laugh. Tony’s head came up and he grinned, then reached up and unfastened the collar, letting it fall to the ground along with the leash.

“That was really hot, Jeth.”

“I’m surprised you stopped there.”

Tony shook his head. “Your neck’s still healing,” he pointed out. “I left it really loose on purpose. Besides, I want to try playing like that when we’re both in the mood for it… and I don’t think you are, not yet. And you’re not up to reversing roles either, not with this.” His hand stroked over Jethro’s side, moving lightly over the bandaged area. “Someday,” Tony continued, “I’d like to collar you and cuff you and have my way with you… and I’d like you to do that to me… but only if you want to, too. In the meantime… why don’t you strip and lie down and let me get you nice and relaxed?”

Jethro smiled and stepped closer to Tony, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into a hug. “I’m looking forward to trying all sorts of things with you,” he said quietly. Then he moved back and pulled off his clothes, while Tony disappeared into the bathroom, coming out with a bottle of massage oil and another bottle that Jethro recognized as the vitamin E Palmer had given him. He set those down on the nightstand, then went back for towels, which he laid out on the bed to protect it from the oil. He removed his own clothes while Jethro watched, then picked up the bottle of vitamin E and shook out two capsules. Taking his pocket knife off his belt, he pierced one of the capsules and drizzled the liquid onto his fingers. He sat on the bed and gestured for Jethro to join him, then proceeded to rub the vitamin E gently over the healing skin on Jethro’s neck.

“Feel okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Doesn’t sting or anything.”

“Good.” Tony finished up with both sides of Jethro’s neck, using one capsule for each cut, then waved toward the towels. “Will it hurt to lie on your stomach?”

Jethro shook his head. “Don’t think so.” He stretched out on the bed, finding that as long as he kept his arm down by his side, the injury didn’t hurt.

Tony started in on a massage that had Jethro half asleep within fifteen minutes. He started on Jethro’s shoulders, worked around the cuts on his arms, then worked his way down Jethro’s back, over his buttocks, and down his legs to his feet, then back up to his shoulders again. He cleaned the oil off his hands and gave Jethro a scalp massage that had his lover humming in appreciation. Once he was done with that, he leaned over and whispered in Jethro’s ear. “Sleep or sex? Your choice.”

Jethro cracked open an eye and smiled at Tony. “Sex, then sleep.”

“I like that choice,” Tony smiled. “Think we need to wait a bit longer to get back to penetration, though.”

Jethro sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Tony grinned. “How about a repeat of this morning, but slow?”

Jethro nodded. “Sounds good to me.” He rolled over onto his back, and Tony gathered up the towels and tossed them in the general direction of the bathroom. He crawled onto the bed next to Jethro, grabbing the massage oil and pouring a little bit onto his hand.

“Turn onto your good side,” he said, a little huskily. Jethro did as suggested, ending up lying on Tony’s left arm, which came up to caress his back. Tony hooked his right leg over Jethro’s legs, and lined up his hips with Jethro’s, so that their cocks pressed together. Jethro moved his right arm up so that he could grab the headboard, and he rested his left hand on Tony’s rear, pulling him closer. Tony leaned forward, licking his way into Jethro’s mouth and kissing him hungrily, while his oil-slicked hand moved to encircle both their cocks.

They took their time, with Tony doing most of the work again. They kept kissing, breathing into each other’s mouths until they had to pull apart for air, and Tony kept his hand moving as slowly as they could both stand it. They tried to keep as still as possible, to avoid aggravating Jethro’s injury. They ended up pressing against each other, holding on tightly as their bodies trembled and shivered with need. Tony’s hand gradually sped up, and they kept going, kissing and stroking and moaning their way to climax.

Afterwards, they lay there, holding each other for a long time until Tony got up to clean them off. Then they fell asleep in their usual position, with Tony on his back and Jethro curled around and on him.

 **Business As Usual…**

Tony breezed into the bullpen the next morning, tossing his pack next to his desk and greeting his teammates. “Probie! Probette! Didja have a good rest of the weekend?”

McGee and Ziva both shot him mild glares. “One of these days, Tony,” Ziva said, “pow, right in the kisser!”

Tony stared at her, then looked over at McGee, who shrugged. “Honeymooners marathon on cable yesterday.”

“Ah, of course. What better way to learn American culture?” Tony sat at his desk and turned on his computer, looking over at Gibbs’ desk. “Where’s the bossman?”

McGee looked over at him. “Delivering Caf-Pow to Abby. How was the rest of your weekend?”

Tony grinned. “Got to put some of those presents to good use.”

McGee looked a bit perturbed and started to say something, then stopped as Ziva loudly cleared her throat. He shot her a small smile, then looked back at Tony. “Role play with you as Magnum?”

Tony grinned. “Nope, but that’s an excellent idea! Though I can’t see Gibbs in the role of the girl of the week.”

McGee rolled his eyes. “Me neither.” He glanced around the bullpen, then continued, “Seriously, Tony, I’m glad you’re happy.”

Tony sent him a genuine smile. “Thanks, Tim.”

They worked quietly for a few minutes, then McGee spoke up. “You know, I’m thinking I should make some changes to the relationship between Tommy and Tibbs in my next book…”

The paper ball war that ensued was truly on an epic scale.

Gibbs returned while they were finishing the clean up. One corner of his mouth quirked up a bit, and he looked inquiringly at Tony. “Just defending your honor, Boss.”

Gibbs shook his head. “Vance wants to see you, DiNozzo. Call ahead, make an appointment for some time today.”

Tony nodded. He’d been expecting that Vance would push for an answer to the Seattle job offer.

“We’re on cold cases for the week, or until I’m cleared to go out in the field,” Gibbs announced as he sat at his desk. “Let’s make the most of it.”

He smirked at the chorus of groans, even though he felt the same way they did.

A few hours into the morning, Abby came upstairs and handed Tony an envelope with black edges and smiley skulls. She grinned at him without saying anything, then turned and headed back to the elevator. Tony used his letter opener to slit the envelope. McGee watched him curiously. “Who died?”

Tony pulled out a black-edged card and read the calligraphy. _This is to announce the immediate cut back in data collection for the Gibbs Smile Scale. The Scale is considered essentially obsolete at this time, although the scientific team conducting data collection reserves the right to randomly carry out spot checks as they see fit. It has, however, become completely obvious that close monitoring is no longer necessary._

Tony grinned and put the card back in the envelope and into his desk drawer. “Just a project Abby was working on,” he said, looking meaningfully from McGee to Gibbs and back again.

“Ah, yes,” McGee said. “She told me about that.”

Tony smiled and went back to his cold case files.

He got a call at 1:30, saying Vance could see him now. He got up, looking over at Gibbs. “Gonna go see the Director.” Gibbs nodded and saluted him with his coffee.

He arrived in Vance’s office to find the Director sitting behind his desk, looking through a file which Tony soon saw was his. Vance gestured for Tony to have a seat in front of the desk, which Tony did. He started to speak, but Vance held up one finger while he continued to read the page he was on. So Tony waited until Vance sat back and nodded to him.

“Special Agent DiNozzo. Have you made a decision about the team leadership position in Seattle?”

“I have, Director. I have decided to stay here in D.C., on the MCRT.”

Vance nodded slowly. “I thought you would.” He popped a toothpick in his mouth and chewed on it for a moment. “Still think going to Seattle is a better move for you. But I’ll respect your decision. You are aware that it could be years before another team lead opens up?”

Tony nodded. “Yes, Sir. Director Shepherd told me the same thing when I turned down Rota. I’m content to wait for my shot to lead the MCRT when Agent Gibbs retires.”

Vance snorted. “You see him retiring any time soon, Agent DiNozzo? Man’s got nothing to go home to but a half-built boat.”

Tony smiled. “Actually, Sir, he’s not building a boat at the moment.”

“Then what the hell is he doing?”

“I believe he’s trying his hand at cabinet making.”

Vance shook his head. “He needs a life.” He looked at DiNozzo. “You lead an active social life, don’t you?”

Tony nodded.

Vance grunted. “You should give him some tips, try to get him out more.”

Tony flashed Vance a bright smile. “I’ll do my best, Sir.”

Vance nodded, and gestured toward the door. Tony got up to leave, and Vance called to him just as he was reaching the door. “Agent DiNozzo! Do me a favor and remind Gibbs of our agreement. That’s all you have to say.”

“Will do, Director.”

Tony left Vance’s office, smiled at his secretary, then walked out toward the stairs, pausing to look down at his team. Ziva was scowling and hitting her computer monitor, while McGee hovered over her and tried to fix whatever was wrong. Abby was talking animatedly to Gibbs about something, waving her arms around to emphasize whatever point she was making. Gibbs was giving her his ‘tolerantly amused’ look. The elevator dinged, and Ducky and Palmer stepped off, happily discussing either some bit of trivia or the latest body in the morgue as they returned from lunch. He grinned down at the scene below, thinking he would have made the same decision even if he and Gibbs hadn’t gotten together. He looked back at Gibbs, to see him looking back and smiling. Tony grinned and headed back down the stairs.

 **…With A Twist**

“Tony, you’re going to damage the wood if you don’t pay attention.”

Tony jumped a bit, having completely spaced out down there in the basement. Jethro was looking at him, a bit concerned. “Having second thoughts about that team lead?”

Tony glared at him. “No way! Of course not. I was just thinking.”

Jethro looked at him searchingly and then nodded. “’Bout what?”

“Just that it all started here.”

“What did?”

“This. Us. We had that conversation after Dana… and the rest is history.”

Jethro leaned back against the workbench and considered that . “True. Short history, though. Been just about a month.”

Tony nodded. “Huh. Feels longer.”

Jethro shot him a crooked smile, then walked over to another section of the bench where he stored the jars with various nails and fasteners. He grabbed two, emptied them out, then picked up the bourbon and poured two shots. He handed one to Tony and raised his own. “To soul mates.”

Tony smiled and raised his jar as well. “To soul mates,” he repeated.

They both sipped the bourbon, and then Jethro grinned at him. “So,” he said, “you ever jack off thinking about me now?”

Tony laughed. “Why would I need to? We have plenty of sex.” He pointed at Jethro. “That doesn’t make us gay, you know.”

Jethro laughed and shook his head. “Yeah, just makes us two heterosexual guys who happened to realize they were in love with each other.”

Tony had another swallow of bourbon and stood up. “Exactly.” He looked at Gibbs for a moment, his head tilted to one side. “Wanna go have not-gay sex?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” Jethro downed the rest of his bourbon and headed for the stairs. He stopped when he heard Tony call out to him.

“Hey, Jeth?”

Jethro turned to look at him.

“Yeah, Tony?”

“You said that night that we’d figure things out. Think we’ve done that?”

Jethro thought about that. “I think we’ve made a damn good start.”

Tony grinned and walked over to him. “I think you’re right.” He reached for Jethro’s hand and tugged him close enough to drop a light kiss on his lips. “Let’s go upstairs. Vance told me I need to get you a life.”

“Really.”

“Yup. Said I should give you tips.”

“Tips on what, exactly?”

“You know, stuff. Life stuff. You need more to come home to than a bunch of wood in a basement.”

“Already got more. Plenty more.”

Tony grinned. “You should show me.”

“Tryin’ to. You keep stalling.”

Tony let go of Jethro’s hand and raced up the stairs. Jethro grinned and followed at a more sedate pace. He glanced back down into the basement, looking at the drawer where Shannon’s picture lay. “Goodnight, Shan… you too, Kells.” Then he headed up the stairs, turning off the light and shutting the door behind him.

The End… for now!


End file.
